#tango is quickly becoming one of my go to guys for warm ups like

[selenealwayscries]

quick no ones looking post dungeon master tango as a villain character from a p2w mmo no one on this site has ever heard of ever

#mcyt #hermitcraft #hermitblr #tangotek #yes im cringe . no im not changing that #tango is quickly becoming one of my go to guys for warm ups like #not even kidding when i say i just fuck around with his hair style in my sketch book all the time #something about the scrungliness ig #also if you recognize this design 1. no you dont and 2. please come talk to me about this chinese p2w mmorpg #this shit used to be my hyperfixation not even kidding . the aesthetics of wuxia mobile games compells me in ways i cant explain #also my hanfu hyperfixation is back . this game doesnt even do actual proper traditional chinese clothes #the fits are all traditional chinese clothing inspired hanfu so theyre not like . historically accurate at all #can you tell im going nuts #anyways anyone that kmows this game please talk to me i miss it so much #im gonna start posting art more often now that the bad news have stopped coming #still recovering from that tho . so well see how much i can actually post #anyways im writing all these tags at 4am of the day after my birthday gonna go collpase now goodbye

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Tango in the Sky [W. W]

Willy Wonka x fem!reader

word count: 1.6k

[Timothée masterlist]

note: LISTEN, first of all I want to say a huge apology because I was literally stuck on this. I had like two weeks with the document started and I just didn't know how to do it, so I'm sorry if this is horrible. I think the problem was that I wanted to make everything the same as the movie and aaagh, I don't know. I know you wanted a kiss but I also had a hard time writing that because they barely know each other haha 😫

I will catch up more these days with everything on my inbox (which is quite a few, thank you for that beautiful people) and I appreciate the nice reception, I love you!

Special thanks to @fivesumbrella5 for leaving their name, it makes me happy to know who requests it :)

“Have you done this before?” you asked, gently petting the snout of the giraffe in front of you. Willy was downstairs, milking her so he could get the milk needed for her chocolates.

Noodle was supposed to have helped him that day, but the poor thing had caught a cold and you had been the lucky one (not really) to be driving the delivery cart. Although it had been a drastic change of plans, you had to adjust to it.

"Once. In Africa. Magnificent beast”

“Was she wild?”

“Wild? She was absolutely furious! But once my hands warmed up, I think she kind of liked it” Willy responded and then you giggled.

It was nice to have his company, that most eccentric guy who had come to rock everyone's world at the laundry.

“The way you left your coat makes it look like a person,” you pointed out, looking down at the coat rack on which he had left the red piece.

“Huh? It's true,” said the boy, smiling. Willy got up from his seat, humming a song, and then approached the structure taking a few steps and turns that ended in a mocking bow. “May I have this piece?”

You were watching his occurrence from above and when he started dancing you couldn't contain your laughter. He even started singing, showing you that he had a really beautiful voice.

"You like dancing?"

“I love it, actually,” he confessed. He had already put his coat and hat back on. “Especially when my partner is human.”

How curious, you were a human. And now that you had seen him dance, you were sure that you could become that dance partner he needed.

You started to go down the stairs, trying to ignore the vertigo that doing so gave you, and when you were two steps from the floor one of your feet slipped. You screamed as you fell, but you were lucky that he reacted quickly, managing to stop the impact by holding you by the back.

"My God…"

“It was close, right?” he laughed, still sounding agitated. “You have to be careful.”

You only managed to nod your head, slightly embarrassed, and then he helped you to step completely onto the floor. He was smiling, he always did, as if his cheeks were made to handle that.

“Do we have what we need?”

“We have it, my dear lady,” he replied, showing you the metal can that was filled with milk. At least something positive had come out of it all. “So it's time to go.”

“Thank you, Abigail!” You exclaimed towards the giraffe. She shook her head as if she really understood and the two of you got out of there.

It was cold outside and you felt strange seeing the zoo so desolate, although at the same time you were happy. Before the arrival of the chocolatier you could barely leave the laundry and now in a single day you had done wonderful things.

"No way…"

"What?"

“Have you ever flown?” He said with enthusiasm reflected in his bright eyes. You, as was logical, immediately denied, “Do you want to do it?”

"What?" you repeated, this time more acute and convinced it was a joke.

"It will be fun! Come on, trust me” he murmured and without giving you time to respond he took your hand to start running on the snowy road.

You were learning that you had to be careful with these occurrences and you had a feeling that this would not be the exception. You understood what his idea was the moment the bunch of balloons entered your field of vision and when you tried to react, he had already taken them with his free hand.

“It's not what… no, no, Willy…” you tried to stop him, but he wouldn't let you.

You ran out of pure inertia, knowing that if you slowed down you would probably trip and everything would turn out horribly. You were heading towards the lake and you closed your eyes as you imagined your destination, but it was nothing like you expected because the tips of your light feet barely touched the edge of the water. A second later you were already lifted into the air and then you clung to him with all the strength that existed in your body. You didn't even want to breathe for fear of falling and he noticed it.

"Open your eyes! You miss the show” the boy laughed, as if flying at night was the most normal thing in the world.

You ignored him and continued hugging him while the wind hit your face and ruffled your hair. You thanked God when your feet finally touched a firm surface, thinking it was the floor, but when you opened your eyes you noticed a glass floor illuminated from below: the panic returned when you realized that it was not a floor, but a ceiling.

“Willy, we're going to fall and die…” you half-screamed, launching yourself into his arms again. He was still holding his bunch of balloons and looked as cheerful as at the beginning.

“Nothing is going to happen to us. It's like walking on a tightrope."

“I have never walked a tightrope!” you replied fearfully. He let go of you and started to walk you away from him, slowly, and then he saw the terror in your eyes.

“If you've never walked a tightrope then it'll just be like dancing, okay?” he smiled, while he took your hand without getting rid of your means of transportation yet. “Do you know how to dance?”

Of course you knew how to do it, but this wasn't exactly what you were expecting when you wanted him to ask you.

“Look, just take one step forward,” he continued, pulling you towards him and moving in the opposite direction. “One back, one forward, two back…”

The boy hummed the instructions kindly and you tried to look him in the eyes just to avoid noticing how many meters high you were. After a couple of sequences you had begun to relax, but when he suddenly placed the balloons in your hand and let you go, you let out a little scream again.

Thanks to his help you did a couple of turns in the air and then he held you again, by his waist, until you were right in front of him.

“Don't let go of me” you asked in a whisper and Willy promised that he wouldn't.

Under that commitment you continued dancing to the rhythm that your friend set and little by little you were feeling more excited about what was happening. You had literally flown through the air and now you were on the damn roof of the gourmet galleries dancing with the most handsome chocolatier you knew; How likely was it at the beginning of the day? None, in short, so it was a pleasant surprise.

Willy guided you to the top of the dome that adorned the galleries, using the balloons to fly again, and suddenly you two stopped to hold onto the metal rod at the top of it. You were smiling from ear to ear and his hand had ended up on yours, while he also had a happy face.

“Didn't I tell you you'd be fun?”

“You are completely crazy, Mr. Wonka. I mean it in the best way” you sighed sincerely, managing to get a giggle out of him.

The man seemed to love heights, unlike you, and he wasn't about to let the moment between you last so short. So, careful not to let go, he began to bend over himself, taking you with him, until you were left sitting on the glass ceiling.

“Just breathe and take a second to appreciate the view,” he asked you, still holding your hand in an attempt to keep you calm.

If you looked down you could see the interior full of shoppers and if you looked forward you could see the entire city. However, the best view was to the side, right where Willy could be seen closely. Until that moment you noticed that the flamingos seemed to have followed you through the air and were now flying freely.

It was actually nice to be in that position once you had put your absolute terror of heights aside and as if you were suddenly aware of everything, the hand holding yours made you blush. Like this you were silent for a minute, with only the sound of the wind filling your ears.

“You know, Willy?” you started to say, not really looking at him. You were focused on the bright lights of one of the mansions “I haven't felt like this in a long time. It's nice to go out into the world."

Were you happy perhaps? If so, then he had achieved his goal. The truth was that one of the reasons he had done everything he had done was in the hope of making you smile and even with the difficulties that had arisen along the way, he had achieved it.

He was about to respond when the feeling of your lips placing a kiss on his cheek stopped his breathing and stirred his thoughts.

“I only worry about one thing though,” you exclaimed again. He looked at you carefully to listen to what you were going to say to him. “How are we going to get down from here?”

The boy laughed and the hand with which he was still holding the balloons waved in the air. You let out a whimper.

“Did you expect anything else?”

“An emergency staircase or something,” you joked. “But I guess it will be flying.”

If you had thought that going up into the air had been a nightmare, going down to the ground again turned out to be much worse.

taglist: @dyieying @reallysparklychaos @silverchainbee @amethyistheart @shadowygladiatorlight @lavendarhearts @lou-multifandoms

#wonka 2023 #willy wonka x reader #wonka x reader #wonka movie #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee x reader #willy wonka #roald dahl #wonka fanfic #willy wonka 2023 #wonka fanfiction #wonka x fem reader

[roxie-roo]

Bird of Prey Chapter Five: The Long Road Home

(taglist: @carry-on-my-wayward-gays, @bluiex, @devorakian-guilt, @teslapenguini, @majickth )

When Jimmy awoke, it wasn't white. It wasn't as quiet as it had been. Faintly, he could hear the little whispered murmurs of the void around them. He stood up slowly and cracked his back, fluffing out his wings and stretching a little to get his body back into motion. In the distance, he could make out two figures. A Watcher, purple eyes shimmering around their body, and a Listener, golden wings glowing dimly against the light of the void. Jimmy carefully approached them, and both looked over to him, welcoming him with broad smiles.

"Hey, there he is!" Grian laughed softly and clapped a hand against Jimmy's back lightly. "The man of the hour! You won, Tim!"

"I did?" Jimmy tilted his head. "We went out together, though.."

"He died a bit before you." Martyn explained. "Congrats, Jimmy.. you earned this."

Jimmy smiled a little bit, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah... n- no hard feelings, right you guys?"

"Of course not." Martyn shook his head. "Cleo was acting like a bitch anyways.. I needed that wakeup call."

"Are you kidding, Tim? I'm so proud of you." Grian smiled and yanked Jimmy into a hug, snorting as he heard his friend let out a squawk. "That was your moment.. and you owned it! And- don't worry. They got your message loud and clear. You're alright. I promise."

Jimmy slowly melted into the embrace and grinned, content to stay like that until he heard Martyn clap and clear his throat.

"So! What'cha got planned now, Jim?"

"I... I dunno..." He hadn't really given it much thought, now that he looked at it. He was more focused on the game, and on Tango. Not on what comes after.

Grian hummed in thought. "It's been a thousand years in Empires since the first season... no one will remember the Codfather, y'know. Well- Except Pix, maybe, but y'know. That's Pix for ya."

"Yeah..." Jimmy smiled. Going back to Empires sounded fun. And maybe he'd build a new ranch, something to dedicate to the one who showed him what freedom truly felt like.

Freedom. The word felt foreign now that he had it, in all honesty. But he couldn't be happier, he decided. This was freedom.

Freedom in going back to Empires, becoming a sheriff. A promotion from being just a plain rancher.

Tango would be so proud.. He found himself thinking.

Tango would be proud of him for more than that. He'd been actually standing up for himself, moreso than he used to. Even if half the time it fell on deaf ears. He was at least trying.

Often times he found himself thinking about his soulmate. He'd zone out in the middle of a work day, mentally back in the old ranch, Tango by his side. It almost physically ached sometimes.

"Sheriff?" Fwhip had caught him zoned out, waving a hand in front of his face. "What'cha thinkin' about?"

Jimmy couldn't lie to him. Not that it wasn't easy, he just felt this wasn't something he needed to lie about. "My soulmate..."

Fwhip looked up at Jimmy with almost a child-like(or maybe cat-like) curiosity. "Soulmate?" His eyes flickered towards the ring on Jimmy's left hand. "What's a soulmate?"

Jimmy paused at the question. He couldn’t help smiling as he leaned against the wall of the cave. "Well,, a soulmate.. at least from my experience, is the most wonderful person in the world..."

"I'm Jimmy,, real nice to meet you."

"Tango. You're kinda cute, yknow."

"Very funny."

"Sometimes the universe assigns you exactly who you needed."

"You paired me with Tango?"

"Yeah, I did. Saw you two eying each other up during Last Life."

"The person you needed the most in your life... they make you feel safe. And warm.. and loved, most of all. No matter what."

"Never love a canary... they're meant for the coalmines."

"I'll be your coalmine, then."

"He sounds great.." Fwhip broke the sheriff from his thoughts with a little tug to his vest. "Come on though- we got work to do!"

"Right- right-" Jimmy followed him quickly. And for a while, neither said a word. Until Fwhip looked up at him again.

"Do you think you'll ever see him again?"

Jimmy hadn't given it much thought. He'd like to see Tango again. He hoped it'd be possible eventually, maybe before the next death game.

Would Tango even recognize him? He hadn't changed a whole lot, he wanted to think. Blond hair, blue eyes, a blue bandana.. the only real differences were the sheriff hat, the badge, a bit of stubble at his chin and... of course.

The wings. He'd lost his wings in the journey over. Things hadn't started by the time he got to Empires, so he had time to stop and rest at a town for a bit. There, he learned the consequences of upsetting a rigid status quo.

Maybe it was a punishment from the Watchers.

He couldn't say for certain. He realized Fwhip still wanted an answer, clearing his throat and rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh.. right.. I- I hope so... I hope I can see him again.." He managed a little smile. "Maybe some day.."

He didn't expect it to be the day of the rift, the festival, after he'd been pushed around by practically everyone.

First, it was a laugh and teasing from Grian, hearing him yell "You're not even safe in your own server!". They laughed and hugged and exchanged playful jabs. And then he heard it.

"Is that my rancher?!"

His head whipped up to see who had called for him. And lo and behold.

He sprang forward into Tango's arms, the ice mage spinning him in delight as he cupped his face and kissed him. With all the sweet tenderness that had built up in the time they'd been gone.

He could hardly hear the jabs of those around them. All he could see was Tango.

His soulmate. His rancher.

He was home.

(A/N: hey all!!! glad to see how much you've been enjoying this fic, and now it's come to a close. It's been a fun mini project to work on! If any of you want to write anything based on it, feel free!! All I ask is that you tag me, and use the Bird of Prey au tag ! Special thanks to @carry-on-my-wayward-gays, for encouraging this, I'm glad you've been having a good time with it <3 That's all from me for now! Au Revoir, mes amis!)

#roxie's writing #double life smp #double life fic #double life jimmy #Bird of Prey au

[one-boring-person]

Hey again! I know I just asked for one and I don’t wanna be bothersome, but I saw that Raymond Tango is on your list and I was hoping I could get an imagine with him and maybe Gabriel Cash as well?

Something like the reader works at the prison where they end up and helps them out when they’re jumped? Or whatever scenario you can think of 😁 Please add a lot of flirting if you can

I actually watched Tango and Cash and the Expendables because of your imagines 😆 And I’ll probably keep discovering more awesome movies thanks to you!

I also had an idea for Rambo where the fireworks on the 4th of July trigger his ptsd and the reader is there to comfort him? (It was Canada Day today so there were fireworks in my hometown to celebrate and I got the idea for it 🤷🏼‍♀️)

Thank you so very much!!! 💕

I'm really sorry for the wait, but I hope you like this!😊❤

Tip-Off.

Ray Tango x reader x Gabe Cash (Tango and Cash)

Warnings: injury, swearing, mention of violence, mention of gun use

Masterlist

Finally, I manage to fling the door open, the thick metal clanging loudly as it slams against the wall, announcing my arrival to the room behind it. Gritting my teeth, I crash through it, yelling out to the inmates I know are gathered there, my standard handgun held at the ready. I hate to use it, but I know very well that many of the people turning to face me won't move unless threatened by something a little more dangerous. 

The room is lit with a drab light, keeping most of the thugs' faces cast in shadow as they turn towards me, shouts of surprise and panic filling the air. As if startled by a ghost, the lot of them suddenly retreat into the darkness, doors banging open and shut around the perimeter, many of them cursing loudly as they clear out. Frowning, I move further into the room, shouting at them hoarsely, my head rotating quickly to make sure I'm not being ambushed by any of them. Thankfully or not, they disappear quickly, leaving me alone in the deserted area with two familiar people hanging by their necks from the ceiling above large troughs of water. Upon closer inspection, I notice that the water is electrified, a sparking cable lying a metre or so away. 

"Hey, hey, what's going on?! Don't just leave us hanging here, kill us or let us down! You shitbrains!" I groan in realisation as I notice exactly who is hanging from the ceiling, the two captives facing away from me.

"Are those my only options, or would you rather I tried to get you down?" I call out to the only one of them who is actually moving, walking round to face them.

"Huh? Who're you?" It's Raymond Tango, the one still writhing on his hook. His partner, Gabriel Cash, hangs listlessly, head drooped, blood dripping from his lip.

"The reason you're still alive." I frown, tapping Cash's foot.

"Oh, it's you. Feel like helping me down?" Ray stares at me, fear still bright in his eyes as he shifts in his bindings.

"Don't sound too grateful. I just saved your ass." I roll my eyes, but move to start helping him.

Going closer, I ignore the dark-haired man's expectant expression, bowing so that I can heave the troughs of water out of the way, first. It isn't easy: the containers weigh tonnes, their contents sloshing all over the place as I brace my shoulder against the battered steel, muscles straining to dislodge them. A grating screech sounds from the base of the troughs as they rasp along the hard ground, but I eventually manage to get them clear, panting by the time they're significantly out of the way. 

"Ok, this is probably gonna hurt a bit." I warn Ray, before going over to the knots at the end of the ropes holding them up.

"What is- argh!" The detective yelps in surprise as he drops unceremoniously from the ceiling, landing with a thud on the cold stone floor.

I leave Gabe's line for now, going over to help Ray up as he rolls onto his side, groaning in pain. Untying him, I check him over for any particularly bad wounds.

"Couldn't you have done that a little less painfully?" Ray grumbles as he moves to sit upright, wiping away blood from his nose, groaning. 

"Sorry, next time I'll bring a mattress." I roll my eyes again, "You'll live. Now help me with Cash."

"Can't we just leave him there? He makes quite a nice light fixture." Ray jokes dryly, climbing wearily to his feet.

Shooting him a pointed look, I try to ignore the small spike in my pulse as I regard the dishevelled detective, not for the first time admiring his chiselled good-looks. Swallowing down the idle thoughts, I move back to the end of Gabe's line.

"Catch him, will you?" I tell Ray, loosening the knot, Cash's limp body dropping ever so slightly as I do so.

"The lump'll crush me!" He complains, but goes to stand underneath him anyway, reaching up to brace Cash's thighs with a grimace.

"You know, your jibes would have much more effect if he were awake." I smile wryly.

Ray doesn't say anything, but sends me a quick smirk anyway, knowing I'm right. 

Turning away, I untie the knot completely, looking back to see Cash fall onto Tango, his torso rocking precariously as the latter struggles to hold him up. Rushing over, I reach out, arms outstretched as the two start to fall, Gabe landing heavily in my grip, throwing us all to the floor. We land heavily, a dull pain erupting in my back from the impact.

Winded, I lie there, Gabe on my chest, Ray on his rival's stomach, breathing heavily as we try to recover. Against me, Gabe shifts slightly, moaning in his unconsciousness, making me force myself to sit upright, his head now in my lap, Ray still trying to catch his breath on his back. Looking down at the man on my thighs, I brush aside some hair from his face, swiping away a little blood from his lip, glancing up to see Ray staring at me, jaw tight. Confused, I go to say something, my brow cocked, only to stop when a pained voice trickles up from between us.

"This isn't what I expected from the afterlife." Gabe murmurs, eyes barely open as he gazes up at me, licking his dry lips.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Cash." Ray jumps in, pushing himself back up.

Frowning, Gabe lifts his head, opening his mouth to speak, before closing it again, the sharp response clearly struggling to materialise.

"Come on, let's get you untied." I chuckle, moving to shift out from under the detective in my lap.

Gabe groans, whining as I roll him over, Tango reaching over to loosen the knots of his ties. Once free, he lazily tries to return to his original position, only to complain when he finds out I've moved. Now standing, I look down at the two with a fading smile, quickly becoming serious as I think back over the gravity of the situation. The two notice, joining me in standing, Gabe rapidly adjusting his clothes as Ray wipes blood from his lip.

"Whoever set you guys up has a serious problem with you two." I muse, scratching my chin in consternation.

"Wait, you believe us?" Ray sounds surprised, his rival regarding me with a similar expression. 

"About what?"

"The setup." 

Glancing at him, I tilt my head.

"Yeah, of course. What, you thought I was one of the bribed guards? After all the tip-offs I gave you both?" I shake my head in exasperation.

"Pretty dumb, if you ask me, Tango." Cash comments, smirking as he runs a hand through his hair, betraying his nerves.

"And who didn't listen to the tip-offs?" I tease him, grinning as Ray sends him a pointed look. 

"Hey, I've had a lot on my mind!" Gabe protests, before he conspiratorially rakes his gaze over me, "A certain someone in particular."

Blushing, I wave him off, muttering a quick "behave" before gesturing for the two detectives to follow after me.

"You're disgusting, you know that?" Ray hisses to Gabe as they limp along behind me, a scoff following this as we reach the door I came through.

"And you think you're better? Come on, man, I've seen you staring at her when she does her rounds. Your cellmate practically has to wipe the drool from your chin." 

"I'm not deaf, you know." I sigh, leading them into a side room,  where a desk and few chairs have been pushed to the wall, a couple of pieces of equipment sat neatly where I left them.

The two men enter behind me, frowning at the sight of the small room, confused by its purpose. Naturally, Gabe is quick to recover and goes straight to one of the chairs, sitting down and leaning back in it, head tilted back so that his mane of golden hair falls down between his shoulder blades. Ray eyes him disdainfully, only to take a seat near him, running a hand through his own hair, muscular arms flexing as he does so. It's a struggle for me to keep my eyes averted from them both as I go to the table in the centre and take out my first aid kit, opening it to check inside. 

"Ok, who's first?" I finally look up at them both, my cheeks warming up as I am met with two intense stares, neither looking away as I make eye contact.

"I'll go!" Gabe interrupts Ray before he can speak, hopping up and coming over to me, leeching on the table with a grin.

Shaking my head, I take some gauze and start to clean out the worst wounds he received, which I soon find are not particularly bad, so I move to check that he's not concussed at all. Removing a small penlight from my keys, I hold it up to his face, placing a finger under his chin to level his head properly. 

"Ok, stare straight ahead." I tell him, not quite realising why he's smirking until I realise that he's decided to stare straight at me, blue eyes fixed on mine. Shaking my head, I once more ignore the blush on my cheeks as I check if his eyes are dilating properly, quickly moving to check his response as I move my hand in front of his face. Thankfully he seems to be ok, everything working as it should be. 

"All done." I tell him, placing the penlight down on the desk beside him, glancing back up in time to see him leaning in. Surprised, I have no time to react before he's pressed a quick kiss to my cheek, the blonde smirking as he hops off the bench, eyes glittering mischievously. 

Ray makes a sound of disapproval, glaring at Gabe as his rival steps past, muscles tensed up as he tries to fight back the (very) obvious jealousy. Quickly, he takes Cash's place on the table, looking at me gratefully as I start cleaning up the wound on his head. His dark eyes don't leave mine the entire time, unnerving me a little.

"So what do we do now?" He eventually asks, voice low as I stand close to him to make sure the cut is properly dressed.

"You guys need to get out of here." I muse, chewing my lip as I work, "It's just how we're gonna do it that's difficult."

"We?" Gabe sounds hopeful, though I can hear a little jealousy in his tone. This confuses me, until I realise why: Ray has gently placed a hand on either side of my waist, most likely under the pretense that he needs a hold to ground himself. 

"Y-Yeah, we. I don't think you two will make it out without help." I tell him, calming my nerves as my pulse picks up, swiping the gauze over Ray's head once more before taking up the penlight again.

"And you're offering? Won't that lose you your job?" Ray questions, surprised at what I've said.

I sigh, standing back upright once I've checked his eyes.

"If I get caught, yeah, it will. At least it'll be for good reason." I shrug, stepping back out of Ray's grip, somewhat reluctantly.

Taking advantage of this, Gabe steps closer, placing a reassuring hand on my lower back. Unused to this kind of affection, I look up at him, expression somewhat blank as he speaks.

"You're sure about that?" He queries, searching my face for hesitation.

"Yeah, I am. What happened to you two wasn't fair, so I think it's good if you get your revenge." I nod firmly, glancing back at Ray, who smiles at me, "Look, I'll come up with a plan as soon as I can. For now, you two need to try and stay alive."

"Easier said than done." Ray murmurs, but agrees nonetheless.

"For you, we will." Gabe teases, tapping my chin with a grin.

#tango and cash #Ray Tango #Raymond Tango #Ray Tango x reader #Gabe Cash #Gabriel cash #Gabe Cash x reader #Sylvester Stallone #Kurt Russell #break writes #Ray Tango x reader x Gabe Cash

[writing-the-end]

LoL Chapter 55- Hell’s Chosen

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU, designs, ideas belongs to @theguardiansofredland)

The hermits discover a dark past to their paladin knight, does this change their perspective of him, or will it save their unlikely ally? 

Warning: Some description of wounds (i think)

________________________________

All eyes were on Wels. Very few had a look of knowledge. TFC, for one. But Tango’s visible confusion gives way to a much softer, quieter version of the hellfire wizard. “Helsknight? You mean the marauder from years ago? But he died.” 

“You’re right, he did. And I killed him. I buried him so deep inside me, and vowed to do whatever I could to be a better man. When Helsknight died, Welsknight was born.” Wels’s fingers are tight in the bloodstained fabric, knuckles turned white as he’s forced to relive, to speak of his dark past. 

“No no no no. You’re joking, right?” Doc shakes his head. Even he feared Hell’s chosen knight. Wels can’t possibly be that same person. Wels, a quiet, collected paladin with the heart of gold and courage of a lion. “I mean...no one ever told the story of Helsknight with a tail.” 

“Less limbs to get cut off if it’s protected by armor.” Wels points out, flicking the lionesque tail. “You want proof? What was the last time anyone ever saw Helsknight?”

Doc cocks an eyebrow, then waves his hand. “Hels and his band of bad guys attacked one of Ventus’s- the God of Judgement- temples. But the attempt was failed, and Helsknight himself was left behind as he bled out...from his neck…”

The entire group stares as the scar that Wels reveals, running from his collar to his clavicle. TFC doesn’t stare like the others. He’s known all of this the whole time. Tango shakes his head. “But you’re nothing like Helsknight. He murdered and killed for fun, to cause chaos and bring hell onto Lairyon. Wels, you’re…” 

“A changed man. Just like Apatia can be- if you give him the chance. Like the woman who healed me did, like X and TFC. Tango, if you don’t let Apatia give his chance to change and rectify what he can, then you can’t let me be any different. You can’t be a hypocrite and pick and choose.” From between Wels and Tango, Apatia groans. The blood has stopped, Ren’s work healing leaving a sloppy open wound behind. 

Apatia was pale, paler than he already was. Almost the same color as Grian, as the latter continues to recuperate from the torture he faced. But unlike Grian’s shallow, soft breaths, Apatia’s runs ragged and harsh. His jaws are clenched, fighting off the pain. With the remaining bandages and healing salve, Wels wraps up the stump of Apatia’s tail fin. 

Tango and Doc are still quiet, trying to comprehend the news that’s been delivered to them. It all makes sense, but their eads still struggle to put the two completely different personas together. As if they’re different people all together. 

Everyone knows who Helsknight is- was. He appeared as if from nowhere, like a demon spawned straight from hell. And immediately, he began reeking havoc. His band of villains attacked and raided. They were more than just some lowly bandits, or even a mafia. Helsknight was a villain, killing without mercy, without remorse, and without discretion. It wasn’t until their botched attack on that temple that ended the reign of terror that Hell’s chosen knight left on Lairyon. Just as quickly as Helsknight appeared, he faded into nightmares and horror story. Kids were told to watch out for the knight with one eye, because he’d pluck out their own to replace his. 

But Welsknight? He’s calm and collected, if a bit snarky. Even when battling even the husks, he always hesitates to strike a killing blow if there’s a potential to save the life instead. Wels is jovial, and a great baker, and tells great stories. Sure, he’s a great knight, but Tango once saw Wels cry over a dead fish he found at the beach. He’s a paladin, not a barbarian. 

Helsknight supposedly died years ago. Welsknight joined the hermits a few years back. Though there’s a span of time in between the day Lairyon celebrated the defeat of Hels and Wels following TFC back to Eremita, it begins to all make sense. There's a reason why Wels never talks about his past. Never visits home. Never explains how he got many of his scars.

Like puzzle pieces, it all falls together and paints a picture. Doc’s jaw clenches. As much as he hates to say it, or even think it, Wels is right. If a monster like Hels can become the man before Doc today, then maybe, just maybe , theres hope for Apatia. 

So long as he lives. The hermits are so focused on Apatia, their argument on whether he should live or die, no one notices Grian rouse from the darkness that still grips him. No one noticed the sky open up, both in Grian’s eyes and the sky beyond the windows. No one notices him weakly clamber out of bed, nearly falling flat on his face, and walking over to join them in the group. 

“What are we on about?” Even when he speaks up, the other hermits are so used to his voice that it hardly registers. 

“Welsknight was once helsknight, and whether we should save Apatia’s life or not.” Tango shrugs, his red eyes glaring down at Apatia with distaste. He still hates the man, but at the same time… they’re supposed to be the heroes. 

“As your resident healer, I think we should. But...I’m not sure why he’s here in the first place.” Ren looks up, realizing who is speaking, and scoops Grian into his arms. His tail wags loud and heavy, banging against the other hermits with every oscillation. 

“Welcome back to the land of the living, my dude!” Ren only sets Grian down when TFC reminds him that Grian is still working towards regaining his life, his color. He’s still slightly unsaturated, his skin missing the tint of pink, the red of his robest boarding the color of dried blood. Ren sets Grian back on the bed, trying to force the angel to rest. But now that Grian’s awake, he’s ready to cause trouble and start his day- even though he has no clue what time it is. 

“What’s going on? I...I don’t remember much. When did you guys save me? Why is Apatia here? How did you find me?” The questions fall like rain in a storm, impossible for the hermits to catch every last drop. 

It’s TFC that manages to slow the downpour. “Hold on, hold on Grian. Why don’t we start from the beginning? We’ll fill you in on everything, in time.”

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

All the hermits, once again under the safe canopy of the massive oak tree in their guild hall. Grian is wrapped in a warm, soft blanket- knitted by Stress- and a mug of warm apple cider rests in between his pale hands. “I can’t believe you guys came for me.” 

“Of course we were gonna save you, Grian.” Scar practically laughs at the mere idea of leaving him behind. But for Grian, who’s been kicked out of so many guilds for his troublemaking, it really shows how much they care. 

A rumble of agreements follow, and after a few more minutes of quiet comforting, it’s Grian himself that changes the subject. “Dolios is getting more powerful by the minute. I could feel all the energy flowing through those leylines, into him and that monster, Eurynomos. We can’t delay this any longer. Dolios has to go down.” 

“But we don’t even know how. We can destroy as many crystals as we want, but he’ll just keep making more. He has more power than a bunch of lowly mercenaries. He even beat Apatia, one of his own Councilmembers. One of the strongest guildmasters in all of Lairyon.” BDubs points out. Everyone goes silent as they remember the man in their infirmary. The stranger- he’s not a hermit, yet he’s among them. 

Grian looks up, pale face and hollowed eyes alarming for the hermits. He hardly looks to be among the living, but less like a dead man walking like he was before. “Xisuma, your brother mentioned something about the ancient ones. DO you think there could be a clue for us there? In the past?” 

X sighs, leaning back in his chair as he considers the question. “If the answer to ending Dolios’s dark reign truly lies in the past, then we’d have better luck finding the answer ourselves. Thousands of years, eroded by time, by kingdoms and cultures rising and falling, not to mention the disappearance of the ancient ones. There’s a reason ancient magic is dead- because none of the books teaching it survived.” 

“There’s one person we know who has studied the ancient ones for years.” Joe’s voice cuts through the crowd, looking around. Every other hermit is lost and confused, but Joe can see the mixed emotions raging in Xisuma’s eyes. “Besides Ex can take care of the island, of Apatia while we’re searching.” 

“Ex chose to leave Eremita. Why in gods’s names would he want to come back, to help us?” X growls. 

“Because he’s your brother. He helped us save Doc. He’s been helping us, helping all of Lairyon- in his own weird, Ex way. He’s not the villain here, he’s your brother.” 

X clenches his jaw. The scar over his eye burns at the memory of their fight. The words he said to his brother, and the worst responded in kind. Xisuma still received letters from Ex, but he only opened them when Cleo’s cider had clouded his better judgement. And he never responded. 

But he also remembers the moment, after years estranged, he laid eyes upon his twin brother, crammed into the bookstore he was running. The moment of relief, of happiness to see Ex alive and well. Their identical faces, like mirror images of one another. His hair pure white, like the bright sun in the sky. Even now Xisuma remembers how often he’d complain he could always find Ex hairs on his clothes. 

And that Ex helped them save Doc. All these years fighting, Xisuma can’t believe he’s going to be the one to concede defeat. But for the fate of Lairyon, he guesses he has to. He pulls off his mask, turning it over in his hands, running a thumb over the scratched out symbol. He swallows his pride, and stands. “I’ll get the letter to Phoebe. What’s one more stranger to the island?”

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft au #wizard hermits #light of lairyon #hermitcraft fanfic #wizard au #lol #wizard wels #welsknight #wizard Tango #tangotek #wizard doc #docm77 #wizard xisuma #xisumavoid

[dulce-pjm]

takes two to tango

word count: 3.0k

genre: fluff, absolutely tooth-rotting 

summary: hoseok solved his problems and got the girl. he’d worked up the courage to ask you out and now life couldn’t be better, living as your boyfriend. but what’s the point of dating if he can’t even kiss you?

Damn. Hoseok was a real loser, wasn’t he?

Three weeks, three fucking weeks of dating you and he hasn’t been able to kiss you once. 

He’d thought the hard part was over when he was finally able to spit out that he liked you before finals and asked you on a date. After a semester of desperate pining and you being completely oblivious to his flirting attempts, he thought the worst was over. 

But alas, no. 

Your one-month anniversary was rapidly approaching and Hoseok has yet to lock lips with you. 

Maybe it’s stupid to be so caught up over such a small thing. But Hoseok likes you and he really doesn’t think it’s too much to ask for and he’d just really, really like to kiss you. 

It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried. He’d gone through all the steps, even resorting to the cheap tricks he’d used in high school. But the timing was always shit or something stupid got in the way. It felt like the universe had it out for him, putting the chance just within his grasp before promptly yanking it away in the most inconvenient (and sometimes embarrassing) manner possible. 

Should Hoseok be grateful for the time he’s already gotten to spend with you? Yes. And he is. You’re spectacular. A joy to be around. You kept him guessing and laughing and happy. 

Actually, he’d actually kind of already gotten his wish. You’d kissed him on the cheek in joy after watching your team win whilst on an ice hockey date. You turned out to be surprisingly (and scarily) competitive, which Hoseok found all the more adorable. Despite being a small gesture born from the exciting moment, he’d found himself giggly and shy, melting from the attention. That night, while walking you home in the cold, he’d snuck a quick peck on your forehead before bidding you good night. He found himself wishing he’d done more as you disappeared behind your door, smiling to yourself.

But Hoseok was human. He was greedy. He just wanted one, small, teeny weeny little thing. And that thing was to kiss you on the lips, goddammit.

You weren’t his first girlfriend. He isn’t an amateur at this. 

So why was it so fucking hard?

His first attempt was on your second date. Which, admittedly, might be a little soon but it actually wasn’t even his attempt. It was yours. The two of you were ice skating when he kept catching you staring at him. 

“What, is there something on my face?” You’d giggled, reaching up your hand and lightly tapping his nose. 

“You just look cold. And very cute.” Despite attempting to maintain a cool facade, the compliment had Hoseok reeling. His cheeks only grew warmer as you leaned upwards, eyes becoming half-lidded. He’d grinned, ducking down to meet you halfway. 

It was perfect. 

Until your skates suddenly lost traction and you slipped, lips colliding with his shoulder instead of his face. 

Caught off guard, the both of you tumbled to the ground. In a movie, it might have been even more romantic. But in reality, falling on ice hurts like a fucking bitch. It took an entire minute for you both to get back on your feet, laughing and shouting from the pain along the way. 

Cold and traumatized and bruised, the two of you shuffled back to the entrance while clutching onto each other for dear life, kiss long forgotten. 

You both swore never to go ice skating again. 

Hoseok’s actual first attempt had been at a small Christmas party. Hoseok’s Christmas party, in fact. It was for a small dance exercise class he led every Monday through the university. It was through that same class that he met you, actually. You and several of your friends were regulars, and soon he was smitten. He wasn’t sure whether it was your laugh or your smile or your unending optimism that drew him in, only that he had fallen for you and hard. You two, along with the rest of the group, had naturally gotten close over the past semester, so Hoseok decided to give the group one last hurrah together via a small Christmas party just after everyone finished their exams. 

While everyone else was pigging out on brownies or getting drunk off of cheap beer or karaoke-ing to the best of their abilities (which was pretty god-awful), you and Hoseok were camped out in the corner, trying your best to put together a gingerbread house. 

You were failing magnificently, but that didn’t make the activity any less fun. Hoseok was in charge of holding the pieces while you piped icing, with you naturally taking every opportunity to swipe bits of the white fluff on his nose and cheeks and forehead. He’d cried out in protest, promising to exact his revenge, but he cared too much about this stupid gingerbread house to move his hands and risk the whole thing collapsing. 

But before you could even get to the decorating stage, the whole thing shattered. Literally shattered. You blamed it on Hoseok, claiming he’d been gripping it so hard that the pieces snapped in two. He, in turn, blamed it on you for being such a distraction. 

While the two of you were playfully bickering, one of your friends snuck up behind the table with a bunch of mistletoe. 

“Kiss already, ya lovebirds!” she’d cried, clearly having one (or three) too many beers. The entire class was painfully invested in your relationship, so it only made sense that they’d also tease you about it relentlessly. 

The two of you glanced up at the green leaves and then back at each other. A pitchy rendition of ‘Silent Night’ echoed throughout the room. Hoseok smiled and leaned in, muttering something about “tradition” and “giving the people what they want, Y/N.”

His eyes fluttered closed as his lips approached yours, his last thought being how nice you looked and how warm his heart felt. 

It was perfect. 

And then you wiped a massive blob of thick white icing across his entire face. He’d gasped while you and the rest of the party burst into a fit of giggles. 

“I’m sorry-” You choked on your laughter, tears sprung from your eyes. “-Hoseok, the opportunity was just too good! You should have seen your face!” He didn’t have it in him to be mad at you, not when your laugh was that adorable. 

Instead, he’d rubbed his frosting-covered cheek all over yours for revenge as you screeched and struggled against his grip. By the end of the night, both of your cheeks were aching from laughter. 

But still, no kiss. 

At your annual New Years’ Party, he’d tried a different strategy: being slick. 

The two of you were pleasantly tipsy but not quite drunk. And the alcohol gave Hoseok just enough courage to try kissing you again. 

While perched on two barstools around your kitchen island, he’d casually thrown his arm around your shoulder while you were babbling about some story a friend had told you. He’d tried to listen, he really did, but what was a guy supposed to you when you looked as cute as you did?

“I mean, what are the odds? They saw each other in standstill traffic, Hobi. Isn’t that so romantic?” 

“Mhmm.” Feeling the weight of his arm, you moved to look his way and felt your face getting very hot very quickly with the way he was gazing at you. 

“Hobi?” He was much too caught up in how soft your lips looked from here, slightly parted and inviting. Everything about you was soft and sweet.

His eyes flickered back to yours, shimmering under the mood lighting. 

He shifted forward, not loosening his gaze for even a second. He was going to relish every second of this, every second of you. 

It was so perfect. 

But in his drunken stupor, Hoseok hadn’t quite noticed the way his barstool was wobbling until it was too late and he tumbled to the floor. 

You immediately freaked, rushing to his aid. While your concern was genuine and made Hoseok happy that you cared for him, he couldn’t help but be disappointed. The mood was dead once you lugged him to the couch and, despite his protests, insisted he lie down for a while and instructed him to not touch any more alcohol, worried that he’d injure himself further. The night ended kiss-free and with Hoseok falling asleep before the clock struck twelve, missing the countdown. 

But last weekend? Now that was the final straw. 

The two of you had decided to catch a drive-in movie, some silly rom-com. You’d suggested a holiday-themed horror movie, but Hoseok was quick to shut that idea down. Not only was he a coward, but he wasn’t sure how the hell he was supposed to be romantic when there were demons threatening to jump-scare him every three seconds. 

As the two leads finally began confessing their feelings in the final act of the movie, Hoseok looked to you. He found you staring right back, as if you knew this was coming. 

His hand lifted to cup your cheek as the male lead cried “I love you!” Your hands slid behind the back of his neck as your eyes shut and the two of you grew closer and closer, lips mere millimeters apart. Hoseok could smell your lavender shampoo and cherry lip gloss, could even count your lashes from here.

It was so fucking perfect. The epitome of romance. As the two leads passionately confessed, Hoseok and you were about to share your first kiss. 

And then some idiot fell asleep on their horn, sending the obnoxious, blaring sound echoing throughout the drive-in lot. Hoseok shrieked, absolutely startled to the core. 

“For fuck’s sake!” he’d cried, throwing himself back in the driver’s seat. 

You’d found immense humor in his pouting and tried to tease him back into his old self, but the moment was long gone. Hoseok cursed the male lead for being able to get his girl when he was so clearly suffering. You held his hand for the rest of the film and jokingly critiqued it on the way home. But it wasn’t enough. Hoseok had just one thing he wanted and he couldn’t even accomplish that.

And now, he had a vendetta against the whole fucking universe. 

He was going to kiss you if it killed him. And it was going to be perfect. 

He’s chanting that thought like a mantra as the two of you are taking a very romantic stroll in the park, hands intertwined and bodies huddled together to conserve heat in the winter weather. 

“I can’t believe we only have one semester left,” you murmur, clutching your coat closer to your body. “I still feel like a kid.”

“Based on your eating habits, I’d have to agree.” You gasp in shock, slapping his arm. 

“Hey! What do you have against Lunchables?” Hoseok laughs at your offended look, finding you all too endearing.

“It’s not the Lunchables I have a problem with. Lunchables are great. It’s the cheese and peanut-butter crackers you’re crazy about. It’s disgusting.” You roll your eyes and groan, tired of this argument. 

“For the last time, I didn’t know they were cheese flavored and they taste good!” 

“Why else would they be orange, Y/N?” You shake your head, refusing to indulge him any further. “Disgusting.”

The two of you approach a quaint bridge crossing a babbling creek. The sky is colored with purples and pinks and oranges, reflected across the water. A few kids are playing by the shore, much to the disdain of their parents. Hoseok feels his chance approaching. 

You both stop and lean against the bridge railing, watching the sunset. You nuzzle against him, taking delight in his warmth. 

Hoseok studies the way the light reflects off of your face, the way a small smile creeps across your lips. You’re beautiful. Hoseok feels immensely lucky to have had you for this long. There’s a growing part of him that wants to keep you forever. 

“You’re so pretty-”

“It’s so pretty-”

The words are uttered at the same time, you staring at the sky and Hoseok staring at you. When you meet his eyes, the two of you can’t help but laugh quietly to yourselves. Timing’s always been funny for you, huh. 

As the sun peaks farther behind the horizon, Hoseok tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. You can’t fight the grin on your face as Hoseok wraps an arm around your waist and tugs you in. 

This is perfect. This is the moment Hoseok has been waiting for. He’d suffered for three miserable weeks, but it was all about to be worth it. There’s absolutely nothing that can shatter the happiness in Hoseok’s heart. 

“Oh my god, is that a dog?” You’re torn from Hoseok’s embrace as you dash across the bridge. All he can do is sigh and grasp at the cold air you’d occupied seconds before. 

When he turns to see where you’ve run off to, he finds you plopped on the ground loving on a fluffy black and gold mutt. You crane your neck to face him. 

“It doesn’t have a collar, Hobi. I think it’s a stray.” The dog jumps excitedly against your chest, tackling you to the ground and licking at your cheeks and nose and mouth. Showering you with kisses before Hoseok’s eyes.

Lucky bastard.

Hoseok doesn’t have the heart to be mad. You’re too damn adorable. And the dog is pretty cute too. The puppy jumps from you to Hoseok, hopping excitedly and running between his legs. 

“Hyper one, aren’t you?” 

He begrudgingly takes the creature into his arms and hauls you to your feet, mumbling that he knows where the nearest animal shelter is. You trail after him, doting on the animal the whole way. Hoseok sighs, accepting the fact that he’s not getting his kiss tonight. But he thinks he’s okay with that, what with the way you’re talking in your animal voice and gushing over how cute this dog is.

God, Hoseok’s such a loser. But he’d like to hope that he’s your loser now.  

“I miss him already!” you cry as the two of you stumble out of the shelter. Startled by the chill, you quickly take his hand, but even that can’t bring Hoseok the joy he wants. 

“He’ll have a nice and loving home soon, don’t worry,” he soothes, ruffling your hair. He does his best to smile, but it comes off strained and fake, and you notice. Your lip immediately puffs out at his sulking. 

“Is there something wrong?” Guilt fills Hoseok’s chest at your genuine worry. But he’d been acting strangely since New Year’s, he knew, so he figured at this point he owed you an explanation. 

“Well...” Hoseok ponders the situation, trying to put together the right words. “Ireallywannakissyoubutshitkeepsgettingintheway.” 

“I- what?” You’re staring at him in utter confusion. Hoseok sighs as you lean in closer, trying to decipher his words.

“I’ve been trying to kiss you for three weeks now but it never works out!” he shouts into the cold night air, relief filling him as he finally gets his biggest worry off of his chest. 

You’re silent for a moment before bursting into laughter, the sound sweet and loud and in any other case, infectious. Hoseok pouts, wondering how you always manage to find the humor in his suffering. The sun is long set but he can still make out your cackling figure in the lamplight. 

You regain your breath before pulling him closer to you, still giggling between your words. 

“Why didn’t you just ask?” It’s a genuine question, Hoseok supposes. He’s about to answer, but that’s when you say something that sends him over the edge. “It’s just a kiss, there’s no need to take it so seriously.”

“Of course it’s serious!” he exclaims, making you jump. He quickly lowers his voice, looking at the ground sheepishly. “Well- I only mean that I’m serious about you. So I just wanted it to be nice and romantic and perfect because I care about you a lot and you deserve that, okay? And I know that we’ve only been dating for a few weeks but I really-”

When Hoseok lifts his eyes, you’re whipping your head around wildly, as if you’re being stalked or something is about to pop out from behind a corner. 

“Y/N? What are you doing? Is something wrong?” After a few more seconds of your paranoid glances, you meet his eyes, a cheeky grin plastered across your face. You shrug innocently.

“I was just checking to make sure nothing could possibly interrupt us.” Hoseok freezes, jaw dropping slightly. You find the expression hilarious but decide to keep that to yourself. And then Hoseok is smiling like an idiot and pulling you close and running a hand through your hair. 

Your lips barely brush against his when you suddenly lean your head back, making Hoseok cry out in frustration. You can’t get far though, not when you’re wrapped in his arms. 

“Just for the record,” you say, lifting a single finger between your chests. “That was the most romantic and perfect thing you could have said before our first kiss.” Hoseok rolls his eyes. You choke back a giggle at his impatience. You watch the puffs of condensation leave his lips, considering torturing him for longer, but you don’t. “Now, please continue.”

With your permission, Hoseok does the one thing he’s been waiting all too long for. Despite his pent-up frustration, he kisses you softly and slowly, relishing in every second and every touch.

After a long minute, he pulls away, gazing at you happily. You stare right back, unable to wipe the stupid grin off of your face. You’re content and lovestruck and stupid together. Until a large gust of chilly wind hits you and the two of you are screaming and tearing off back to your respective apartments. 

It certainly wasn’t perfect. Maybe a little sloppy. Certainly not like Hoseok would have planned it. 

But it was with you. And he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

#bts #bts scenario #bts fluff #bts fanfic #hoseok fluff #hobi fluff #hoseok fanfic #hoseok scenario #ngl im so proud of this one #this was the concept i toyed and changed with the most but now im in love #dedicated to my lovely friends who inspired and helped build this story #the shortest but def the sweetest #enjoy!!!!

[stoppingby]

Any Reylo fic recs?

i’ve actually wanted to do a big fic rec for a while, so this is the perfect opportunity! 

i’ve gathered a list of classic tropes and tried to pick one or two favorites for each! this is by no means a comprehensive list, and if you guys like this, i would be happy to do another edition later on! these are all mostly fluffy as that’s what i usually prefer, but as with most reylo fics there is a lot of explicit content, so please mind the ratings!

without further ado, i present...

stoppingby’s first reylo fic rec: tropey favorites!

Arranged marriage? And Closer Still Is Never Enough - lovefrompluto (15K, E). sweet, tender & caring prince ben. rey is special, and he knows that. reminds me why i love fanfic - watching them fall in love a million different ways.

Best friends-to-lovers? i’ve been in love with you for ages (and i can’t seem to get it right) - akosmia (10K, T). when who you want is right under your nose, and not only can they give you everything you want, they want to. ben cares for rey without hope or agenda. 

Bleed Me Dry, I Don’t Mind - AttackoftheDarkCurses (12K, E). best friends to lovers from two perspectives. a little growing up together, a little university AU. they slip into love without even realizing.

Canonverse? chase all your cares away - LovesBitca8 (4K, E). ben defects to the resistance. rey loves his smile and is determined to get one out of him. 

Coffee shop? maybe i just wanna be yours - akosmia (13K, T). ben compulsively offers favors to rey’s friends. in return, they meddle. it’s a 5+1 (i am obsessed with those as you will come to find out).

Emotional hurt/comfort? thrilled by the still of your hand - akosmia (9K, T). canondivergent. ben is touch starved after… everything. rey helps. i cried multiple times, and i loved it.

Serotonin and Dopamine - pontmercy44 (28K, E). this is so unique. very realistic in the way that it shows the work that goes into a relationship. i won’t give away too much, but mental heath issues are integral to the plot, so be forewarned. 

Enemies-to-lovers? Left Handed Kisses - Ever-so-reylo (18K, E). a reylo classic. assistant district attorney vs criminal defense lawyer. hatefucking turns into something more.

Epistolary (including forms of communication)? Hanging on the Telephone - jeeno2 (11K, E). rey gets a sext from a wrong number. sure, she should ignore it and move on. but where’s the fun in that?

our love was meant to be (my love came back to me)  - BensCalligraphySet (3K, T). in this life, ben finds letters in a bottle from someone who seemed to know him in a previous one. the galaxy gives them another chance. 

Fake dating? Let Me Dream, Let Me Stay - Melusine11 (38K, E). rey backs herself into a lie and asks her coworker kylo to pretend to be her boyfriend at rose and finn’s wedding. they roadtrip, they share a bed, they eat at a punny restaurant. so much fun!

Roommates? Closer to Fine - jeeno2 (15K, E). pregnant rey needs a roommate and moves in with medical student ben. there’s a lot to be scared about, but they’re not alone. 

Someone You Love(d) - AttackoftheDarkCurses (39K, E). rey and prince!ben are college roommates. they end up spending break together with leia, han, breha, and padme. they claim to hate each other and misunderstandings ensue. so many tropes i can’t even list them. 

Flower shop/tattoo parlor? alderaan places - nymja (5K, T). a classic take on a classic trope. it’s valentine’s day!

Friends with benefits? Making Love Out of Nothing At All - LoveofEscapism (4K, E). ben will do anything rey asks. so hot, but full of emotion. 

Two to Tango - crossingwinter (6K, E). i love this one. absolutely nails the heart wrenching emotion of knowing you’ve made a mistake in the moment before you fix it.

Funny? First Order IT, Can I Get Your User ID? - krossartist (14K, T). witty banter and childish name calling with a small touch of hurt/comfort. adorable!

Harry Potter AU? the water smells like you - shruggyben (3K, G). every ship needs an HP ‘verse amortentia fic! feat. professor leia organa.

High school? The Buddy List - violethoure666 (23K, E). since reading it a few weeks ago, this has quickly become one of my favorites! if you miss the aughts this one's for you! AIM messenger drives the story. 

Medieval/Royalty? Tangled, but Unbroken - AttackoftheDarkCurses (20K, M). growing up together, star-crossed lovers, alderaanian hair braiding - what more could you want? my fave tag on this: uncle luke is a reylo.

Neighbors? Flux & Solder - angharabbit (23K, E). another one of my all time favorites. new neighbors ben and rey help each other with trauma. feels like a rainy day from the thunder through the rainbow. make sure you read the tags before reading this incredible work!

Office romance? Minus 1 - Ever-so-reylo (5K, E). rey sends a text to the wrong office IM number. rey doesn’t know who she’s texting, but friendship and… more develops.

keep calm and let HR handle it - hi_raeth (11K, T). another 5+1! ben is the CEO and rey is the HR director. coworkers to confidantes to lovers. super sweet.

Oneshot? spring will come again - prncesselene (8K, M). over the course of a year, rey’s life changes completely as she renovates padme amidala’s old greenhouse. 

Only one bed? under thy own life’s key - galvanator (23K, E). sexy with great emotional depth, but it’s the sequel trilogy gang that makes this stand out in the trope! makes me wish we got a post-TROS everyone-lives sitcom.

Romcom-inspired? if you’re ready comic get it - violethoure666 (28K, E). if You’ve Got Mail was with tumblr mutuals and a comic book store. 

We Never Met - KyloTrashForever (3K, E). that scene in When Harry Met Sally where the older couple talks about meeting in the elevator. what happens when two people who are constantly just missing each other finally meet?

Slow burn? My Heart Always Belonged To You - JGoose13 (52K, E). Persuasion AU! reylo + jane austen = magic. 

Soulmates? wholly to be a fool - bigfootsflannel (9K, T). when your soulmate confesses their love, their words appear on your arm. ben makes a drunken confession.

Stuck/stranded together? a place to go - delia-pavorum (52K, E). rey and ben go looking for solitude in luke’s cabin. they don’t get off on the best foot before getting snowed in. sickfic (which i think there is far too little of in reylo fanfic)! beautiful and warm.

University/college? Sociology of Sexuality - Celia_and (4K, E). ben is that just-playing-devil’s-advocate kid in class that we all have to put up with. y’all this is so hot. if this happened in my real life, i think i would never recover.

Work-in-progress? flesh stays no farther reason - galvanator (20K, E). i drop EVERYTHING when this updates! ben and rey are from completely different circumstances, but that doesn’t stop a hookup from turning into something more. i feel like this fic gets their dynamic so right, and i am anxiously awaiting the conclusion in two chapters!

My comfort fic? bloom (you fill my lungs with sweetness, you fill my head with you) - akosmia (12K, T). i’ve read this again and again and i don’t plan on stopping. blind bestselling author ben solo needs a scribe. rey gets the job. there is cooking, there is domesticity, there are overwhelming emotions. my go-to. 

as i’ve said before, akosmia (@kylorensx) is my all time favorite fanfic author. the fact that we are mutuals blows my mind daily. please please go read all of her stuff. you won’t regret it!

#you guys this took me so long so i'd love to hear your thoughts on how i did #good or bad! #thanks for reading! #reylo fic rec #reylo fanfic #reylo #rey #ben solo #kylo ren #star wars #ali talks #ask box

[sif-the-tsunami]

Ropes and Roses, Intro

A/N: Well hello, I had no idea that this was going to be something that other people wanted, please bear with me, I haven’t written in like fifteen years, so I’m not super familiar with the way fanfiction formatting has changed, so I’m using what comes naturally to me. 

Content warning: none really, maybe a little bit of insecurities stemming from perfectionism. I wanted to just introduce both of the mains in this one. This will become more adult in a little bit. Some spicy language also.

If this is also the title of something else, I can change it, its 3:30 AM and I can’t think of what else to call it.

Word count: Approx. 1300

“I’m sorry, Henry, you need to work on your flexibility. You are an incredibly strong person, but you need to move gracefully, more like a hockey player, not a soldier.” He hears the words repeat in his head over and over. What kind of bullshit was this? Henry had been working on his body, wellness, and was in the best shape of his life. The comments made by the director wrecked his whole day and to make matters, and his temper, worse was the fact that he felt disappointed in himself for letting the words ring in his ear. “I have a friend who I think will help you, she’s a dance instructor. Here, her name is Elizabeth, give her call.”

The beast of a man sat on his couch, the dance studio was twenty minutes away from his house in London. The director just said he had to pass as gentleman who enjoyed the seduction and intimacy of dancing as means of manipulation. He wouldn’t have to be ballroom competition ready, fortunately. He flipped his phone around in his hands for a few minutes and groaned to himself. Henry grabbed the card from his pocket and dialed the number.

“Thank you for calling the Rosehill Dance Studio, this is Mary, how can I help you?” A sweet voice asked as clear as a bell.

“Hello. My name is Hank, I was informed that I need to take some dance classes, and I was wondering if there was an intro class I could enroll it.”

“What kind of lessons are you looking for? We offer tango lessons, different ballroom, a couple difference versions of swing dancing...”

He cut her off in anxious embarrassment, “I need to learn how to do a waltz. I would prefer for the lessons to be private. I was told to ask for Elizabeth.”

Henry was never a fan of admitting defeat, but he knew that if he didn’t learn this, it would be the only scene that required a body double. He would be damned if that was the only thing he couldn’t do. He looked at his feet, and shuffled slightly.

“I don’t have any with Ms Rosehill for about the next six weeks.”

“I was told to be prepared for that, would you mind asking her if she should make an exception. This is a favor for Gregory Chapman.”

“Oh, I will need to put you on a brief hold.” Mary said, surprised by the name drop. After about two minutes of cheery hold music, she picked up the line and said “The earliest Ms Rosehill can see you is this Thursday, she asks that you be at the studio before 7PM. Please bring clothes you are comfortable stretching in, and the shoes you will be dancing in. If you cannot make it to the studio by your appointment time, please call us before hand no later than an hour ahead of time. Do you have any other questions?”

Henry thanked the receptionist and told her he had no further questions. He set his phone down on his lap, and looked at Kal who was nuzzling his other side. He leaned forward to plant a kiss on the dog’s forehead and realized that maybe he was too stiff. The work he has done previously required him to be massive, the role he was performing now as this villain required more fluidity than brutality. This character was the anti-August Walker. While he looked forward to not playing another well meaning good guy, he wanted to really sink his teeth into the possibility of expanding his repertoire.

______

Thursday came too quickly for Henry’s taste. He arrived at the studio promptly at 6:45PM and looked around the lobby. A loud, clear countdown was exclaimed and then the dancers began their routine. The music coming from behind a curtain was absolutely not was he was expecting. However neither was the instructor. He walked around to where he could watch and saw a dainty looking woman in front of the other group of women. They were all facing towards the wall length mirrors and looked so happy. This was a space for them, for their joy, and no one else’s. He knew he should not be observing this but he couldn’t stop. The tribal drumming was strangely soothing to him. The eight women moved perfectly together, they were seamless. He could tell she was leading the class from several verbal cues she was giving the students to indicate transitions and movement. He watched the women sway, shimmy and turn as if he were stuck in a trance. As the music ended, she pulled a phone out of her leggings pocket and paused the playlist. She looked towards the door and their eyes connected. She had the most adorable half grin Henry had seen in a long time. The look on her face said that she caught him like an unruly child sneaking a cookie. “Wonderfully done tonight ladies, I am so happy how far we have all gotten with this choreography. I think you all will ready for the studio’s recital next Sunday. Give yourself a hand, you are all so fantastic.” She was an American, it seemed. Henry pulled his baseball hat down a little as the women dispersed. The short-haired woman came to the front and observed the tall man in her lobby. “Hello, you must be Mr. Cavill. Please don't be surprised, Greg called me this morning to see if you and I were going to work together. It is a pleasure to meet you, I am Elizabeth Rosehill.” She reached her hand out to shake his. “Thank you for being on time.” “I thought I was early.” He smiled politely at his new instructor. There was something about the way she said Mr Cavill that made him feel like he was back in boarding school and he needed to be on his best behavior. “Early is on time, on time is late, Mr. Cavill.” She smiled back, just as polite. Her voice was clear, and her words were precise. “Please remember that for our future lessons. It was brought to my attention that you wish to be able to ballroom dance for an upcoming project. I will do my best to teach you but I need to know you will be as dedicated to this as you are your regular workouts.” “Yes, ma’am, I will do my best.” His voice cracked, he cleared his throat. Was he always this nervous when talking to women? She gestured to him with her hands and a warm smile to follow her. “May I ask what kind of dancing you were doing? It was beautiful.” “That was American Tribal Style belly dancing. It has fallen out of popularity back home, but I’ve been able to find pockets of women, and men in some cases, across the UK that seem to still enjoy it. It is a little less flirty than cabaret style which is probably what you associate belly dancing with. So to begin, I would really like to see how flexible you are, so we can sort out what sort of dance you will be learning. I am going to go lock the front door to make sure we are not interrupted, and in the mean time I need you to grab us two of the yoga mats. I would like for you to set them up parallel to each other, far enough apart so when we do some stretches we will not knock our heads together. Can you do that for me?” “Yes, absolutely.” “Thank you Mr Cavill, we will begin shortly.”

#henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill smut

[high-ashell-hargrove]

Lost- Dean Winchester x Reader

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Ptsd, bad old writing per usual?

Description: after returning from the dead, Y/n deals with her memories of Pergatory and Dean is there to attempt to help her through it all

A/n: so i wrote this like a year ago, and kinda hate it but ngl i wanted to post it lolol

like 1.5k words

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--

The smell of musty books and beer wafted through the air, along with the new addition of mint and lavender shampoo. It had been over a year since y/n felt soft fabric touch her skin and warm water engulfed her fragile body. She had made her journey from where she had been buried back to Bobbys. Guilt and fear coursed through her veins. Will they be happy to see me? These thoughts raced through her mind as she stared at the off white door. After a while she ambled up the steps, taking a deep breath she knocked on the door. The door opened slowly and she was met with the eldest Winchester, A small gasp left his mouth. He splashed her with holy water. "It's really me Dean." Y/n croaked, her mouth was tremendously dry. A smile plastered across his face as he pulled her in for a hug. "God I missed you" y/n whispered. She absolutely missed the smell of the cologne that seeped from the man’s clothing. "I missed you more." He said fighting back tears, which didn't work much because tears spilled over his face. Pulling back he wrapped his arm around her torso and guided her inside.

"Who was it?" I heard the youngest Winchester call out from the kitchen area. "It's y/n," Dean called back. Silence filled the house. Two sets of footsteps sounded toward the two. There stood in front of you in the tiny mudroom, was Sam and Bobby. “Hey guys,” she said, her voice was brittle, her eyes once full of life and hope now looked dark and empty. The men just stood there, shocked at the small frame standing in front of them. Her face covered in matted blood and dirt, her nails busted, clothing torn and soiled. Sam slowly approached her and brought her in for a hug. He couldn't help but notice her grip, usually strong was now a weak squeeze.

Stepping back he wiped the tears from his eyes. “Did the Cass bring you back?” he asked.

“Hell if I kno’.” a light chuckle left her throat.

She looked at each of the men again, reaching up at Sam as she fiddles with his hair.

“How long has it been? I swear your hair has grown like, four inches in what? Five months?” she chucked again, pulling away from the Winchester. The men looked at her, sad expressions across each face.

“y/n,” Dean said, placing a strong hand on her shoulder, slowly he walked into the living room with her and sat on the couch. “It's been a year and nine months.” His voice is thick. She looked from Sam to Bobby searching for answers. She sucked in a deep breath.

“O-oh, well then I h-haven't had a shower in over a year,” she said, trying to lighten the mood. 

Slowly standing up again she ripped her hands from Deans, “if you'll excuse me.” she said making her way to the staircase. “Damnit,” Dean whispered, rubbing his face.

[Oof)

After cleaning up y/n made her way downstairs again, in the boy's clothing now because hers had been ruined, Sam waited at the bottom of the staircase. *pov change hahahah*

"Though you might need this." He chuckled holding out a beer. I take it and take a sip, wincing at the feeling. Walking into the kitchen I was met with a table filled with food. 

"We uh, though you would be hungry too," Dean said, clasping his hands together. Forcing a smile I sat down, the boys followed. Looking down I began fiddling with my fingers, Dean leaned over and patted my leg. I let out a whimper and grip my thigh. 

"You- you still have injuries don't you," Dean asked with concern dripping in his voice. 

I nodded. Looking up again I see the boys staring at me. 

"Don't want the food to go to waste." I sigh, grabbing the pie.

It had been months of y/n trying to get back into hunting with the boys, Adjusting had become much harder than she thought. Every little thing set her off in some way. Y/n had mostly stuck behind and helped Bobby with research "Berkshire county PA, big Vamp nest according to Rufus." Y/n said, sitting down on her phone.

"The boys are gonna need you on this one," Bobby said sitting back in his chair.

Her eyes widened. Once again It was like she hadn't done this, ever.

"No. They don't need me, together they are enough." Y/n says, her hands trembling.

The sound of the impala rumbled through the air, looking over towards the door she heard the engine come to a stop and the heavy doors shutting. Eventually, she was met by the two men standing in the door frame of bobby’s ‘living room’.

“Hey boys,” Bobby said as he got up to give them hugs. Not soon after they embraced me with strong arms, almost suffocating actually. We sat for about an hour talking out the new case, each time mentioning me joining them on the hunt Dean would look at me with worry, not once did I meet his gaze. We finally agreed, well Bobby and Sam agreed I would be joining them. Packing some things I say my goodbyes to Bobby and find myself staring out baby's windows. A few hours felt like long agonizing months. Fear sat at the pit of my stomach.  Eventually, we make it to a dinky little motel called “Comfort inn”.

Slinging down his bags Dean huffed “Comfort inn my ass.”

Chuckling Sam and I follow in suit.

“I’m takin’ the couch.”

“Cute but no.” I heard Dean reply. Turning around sent him a questioning look. 

I scoff. “And why the hell, not Mr. Winchester.”

“Because I heard all about the tango you had with some demons about a week ago,” he replies and points toward my side. Rolling my eyes and throwing my bag onto the couch.

“So sweet for keeping tabs on me, but no.” 

A few nights later and some more dead bodies we all had found the vamps nest. It was in a big barn in the middle of, you guessed it, nowhere. We got our things and headed there. I have to admit I wasn't afraid of working the ‘suit’ part of the job, but killing vamps I was definitely scared shitless thinking about. We were About ten minutes away from busting in their machetes wielding. 

We stood outside of the doors, my heart thumping uncontrollably. Sliding open the door we all quietly entered, vamps asleep right at our feet. One by one we silently killed them. As we approached the far left corner of the barn, cries for help emerged. Next thing I see, vamps swarming us. Separating us. I focused on the task at hand. my blade flying through them, without seconds to spare. Next thing I know I'm met with the boys again, staring at me like I'm crazy. Blood covered my hand, neck, face, and clothes. It was like I blacked out. Startled, I stumbled back out to the car. The ride back no words were exchanged, we simply cleaned up when we got back to the motel and hit the hay.

Whispers filled her head. The smell of rotting flesh wafted through her nose, and the sounds of twigs and dirt crunched beneath her boots.

A light gasp left y/n throat. Quickly looking around she noticed she was indeed in the motel and not in purgatory. Quietly y/n walked into the bathroom. Shutting the door she turned to look in the mirror.  She was back, it had been so long since she had let her emotions get to her. Now blood soaked her shirt and covered her once clean skin. taking a deep breath y/n looked into the motel mirror again, images of purgatory flashed through her once more. sobs left her throat and her vision began to blur with tears. a light knock brought her back. 

"You okay in there y/n/n?" Dean called from the opposite side. y/n could not bring herself to reply, only more muffled cries. He opened the door and immediately was at her side, whispering comforting words to her while stroking her hair.

“Talk to me, sweetheart.” 

She tightens her grip on his arms, and suddenly she begins. “That-that place, it broke me in more ways than one.” she squeaked. Taking a few more breaths she started again. “I was suffocating Dean, I- I felt myself losing what humanity I had left. And the worse thing was when I screamed… my head felt like it was constantly being shoved underwater. I lost hope… I still feel lost.”He didn't know what to say, he had been there…. But he just couldn't seem to muster up any words, he just held her tighter.

#dean winchester #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x female!reader #supernatural imagine #supernatural fanfiction #dean is bi #ahahahahaha #supernatural fic

[sweetest-honeybee]

To Hell and Back

Chapter 23

Summary: Tango goes to have some cake an hot chocolate with Stress.

Characters: Tango, Stress, Xisuma (Doc, Hels, Wels, Keralis, Impulse mentions)

TW: None I don’t think?

————————

They were all in shock at the event.

Xisuma was seething.

Doc was pulling Beef and Wels out of the cage.

Tango had shot the arrow, much to their surprise.

Hels was still stuck in his other state of mind, not showing any signs of returning to his usual sadistic self. Tango’s hands were shaking from shooting his friend for any reason that wasn’t to just mess around. But again, it wasn’t Wels. It was a weird substitute for Wels that apparently had more willpower than he did and that really said something.

Thankfully, the knight was unconscious now. Only one arrow wasn’t enough to kill him and that’s what he hoped for. If Wels died and respawned, while he wouldn’t be too far away, it was safe to assume whatever that thing was had control over him and would have him flying off somewhere else in the opposite direction. Really, at some point it would come out to be a stupid plan. They’d message everyone to capture Wels on sight and given how spread apart everyone was across the map, hiding spots weren’t too evident. A search team of about twenty odd people would find him within an hour at most.

“Tango, are you alright?” Xisuma asked him. His head snapped towards the admin.

The demon exhaled shakily. “I shot him,” was all he said, still staring at the scene in front of him.

“I know, I know, but you did the right thing, Tango.” Xisuma’s voice wavered too much for Tango’s liking. He seemed just as panicked as everyone else was. Yet, his hands were balled right around his sword and his eyes showed none of the usual softness behind his visor.

Tango shook his head, disregarding that statement. “I shot Wels, X.” He gestured vaguely at the knight. In the spur of the moment, he forgot that it was Wels simply being controlled, firing at him instinctively. But after it all, it was still his tiefling friend.

“Yes, you did. But you also just saved Beef from being hurt more than….that.” He gestured vaguely and then put a reassuring hand on Tango’s shoulder. “You can leave if you like. You don’t have to be here.”

Well thanks, Tango wanted to say bitterly. Not quite what he wanted to hear, but Xisuma had a point. A shaking mess of a demon who could now barely hold his bow wasn’t too useful in this situation. Before Tango could accept the invitation to leave, the admin was already typing into his communicator, presumably asking for more help. His hands dropped to his sides defeatedly.

“Okay,” he muttered, taking one last look at the unconscious pair. “Keep me updated?”

“Will do.”

With that and a quick pat on the back, the demon rocketed away from the sandstone building. While he flew, he took out his communicator to see who was coming to help in his place. Preferably more than just one person, he thought. Probably someone fairly close by. Thankfully, he doubted Stress would be accompanying them and her hot chocolate sounded quite good right now.

<Xisuma> We need some backup at Beef’s base

<ImpulseSV> I can lend a hand

<Keralis> Me too

<Keralis> On my way

Well, at least they had people who Wels didn’t just try to kill an hour earlier. Tango was still a bit shaken up by that. So, he decided to visit Stress, seeing as she wasn’t accompanying them. Rather than taking the Nether Hub, he opted to take the long route to think and simultaneously clear his head. He kept thinking about Evil X for some reason, but that was justified quickly when he thought back to Xisuma.

Knowing the admin, he could probably just ask about it later, but he didn’t really want to press into matters that weren’t his, jokingly or not, given what’d happened earlier on from doing so. He also wondered about Evil X and how nervous the guy looked before flying off to his base. Poor dude, maybe Tango should’ve at least tried to understand what happened. After all, Xisuma was rare to anger and when he was, Tango didn’t imagine that it was pretty, be it cold silent glares or outright rage.

Nonetheless, it would probably leave you upset with yourself more often than not.

Slowly, he crept up on the familiar giant butterflies crawling around on the jungle trees and the pink topped buildings. The butterflies glanced at him but continued their activities. He landed on the glass rainbow to get a better view of the surrounding area. The demon looked around, not initially finding Stress, but after a few more seconds his eyes landed on the familiar pink cardigan. Strange, he thought she’d still have the T-shirt on, but who was he to judge when that landed him in a mess on its own.

At the sight of her, he grinned and glided down to the pathway where she was.

“Hey Stress!” He waved.

She turned to him. “Oh, Tango! Fancy seeing you here. I thought you were with Xisuma.” She tilted her head in question. “At least I thought anyways. Saw something goin’ on, I assumed you stayed with him.”

“Uh, yeah, I was. Then things got a little heated so I left,” he answered.

Stress nodded. “I saw they needed some backup. Mind telling me what happened? Nobody really knows what’s going on besides the few of you.”

That’s right, they hadn’t really explained in chat, or to anyone else really, what was happening with Wels and Hels. Tango grimaced at the thought that Wels would probably be waking up soon and lash out again. He didn’t want more people to be hurt, especially not Beef. Beef was such a nice guy and genuinely wanted to help both knights. He didn’t deserve how much he was hurt by it. And Impulse was there too now, and that was an accident waiting to happen. He didn’t want one of his closest friends hurt.

“Tango, you alright there? You’re spacin’ out a bit.”

The demon shook his head, ridding himself of the previous thoughts, and coughed awkwardly.

“Well uh, you know how Beef has that cloning machine, right? And Wels used it?”

“Vaguely, but yes.”

“Well, something’s gone wrong recently. I mean, not that it hadn’t before after he used it but worse this time.”

Stress began leading them inside her brewery, nodding along to him. “What happened the first time?”

“Ah, apparently it made this evil clone, I dunno if he met you yet-“

She perked up happily. “Oh, you mean Hels! Yes, yes, he’s a very interesting fellow. Very cooperative, too, I had to care for him because he came in from HelsCraft lookin’ like a mess.”

Tango raised a brow, suddenly interested in what she had to say instead. “Looking like a mess? Nobody really mentioned anything about that when they came over. Just said Hels wanted to meet me and moved on.”

“Oh yeah, had a dagger in his stomach and everythin’. Looked real painful but he’s a tough cookie.” Stress smiled as she sat the demon down on some stairs near a small kitchen she had built earlier on. Not too great for the overall area and stuck out against the few stands but she apparently recently put one in each of her builds in case of events like these, or just to keep baking convenient. “Care for some cake and hot chocolate? No offense, but you look like a mess, too. Could use some sugar.”

And always prepared with sweets.

Tango snorted. “Sure.” He sighed, continuing his story. “Anyways, so after all that, apparently he and Wels began like….switching places? Hels is becoming nicer and Wels….” he trailed off, grabbing Stress’s attention.

“What about Wels?” She leaned against the counter thoughtfully.

“He….came over because he shut himself off from everyone and I pestered him with some trades. But, after telling him that his offers were crap, he tried to kill me.”

Stress fumbled with the cake knife as he said that, her face twisting into worry. “Kill you?! Why on earth would he try to kill you over a trade?!”

The demon shuddered, the knight’s smirking face burning into that back of his mind. “It wasn’t him, Stress. He keeps being taken over by this….weird dark force or something. You should’ve seen his eyes, Stress, they were as red as mine!”

“Oh, goodness. Are you….alright? I mean, we all saw earlier that Evil X killed you, though. We just assumed he was causing some mischief.”

Tango shook his head. “Wels nicked my wing and I just,” he pushed his hands away from him, conveying a falling motion,”fell right into one of the towers.” He circled his arms around himself. “He didn’t help me. I couldn’t speak ‘cus I was hurt. But, I guess just by coincidence, Evil X came over and just….he said something about just going ahead and killing me and after that I was in my bed.”

Stress had momentarily forgotten about the cake and mugs sitting next to her, invested in his story. She had a hand over her mouth in sad surprise. “Did- did anything else happen?”

“Ah….Evil X came in, said Xisuma needed me to come with them. We go back up and Wels has these nasty red marks on his face but he’s still all evil and whatnot. Doc had him tied up and they just left. Suma wasn’t looking too good though.”

The lady eyed him curiously. “Not looking too good?”

“He was looking like he was gonna pass out. He said something about how he apparently hit Wels, something else about not affording to lose another Hermit.” Tango perked up. “Hey, do you know anything about that? I mean, I’ve been here for a while and the servers changed and stuff. Some people left, but he said it like….someone died or something. Like permadeath.”

Stress shook her head with pursed lips. “No, sorry Tango. Is there more to the story or do you want to eat some cake now.”

Slightly, Tango smiled. “Cake first.”

With a grin, she cut him a slice and moved to get some milk and cocoa beans for the hot chocolate. The two fell silent while she worked, pouring the milk in a small pot and placing it on top of a furnace where some heat began growing. She began to hum absentmindedly and cut herself from cake as well. Within a couple minutes, the milk warmed and she finished up grinding the cocoa beans with sugar.

“You like yours with whip cream and marshmallows, luv?” She looked up at Tango who was busy picking at something on his shirt, probably just to pass the waiting time.

“Hm? Oh yes, that’d be nice. Thanks, Stress!” The smile on his face grew and Stress couldn’t help but to warm at the sight of it. At least she had a knack for cheering up her friends with her recipes.

“Right then, they’re done!” She placed the cake and hot chocolate on a tray and had the demon follow her to a lounge-like area through a painting. Well, he’d never seen this before. Looks like she had a whole bunch of surprises.

“This is my private room to chill out once in a while, don’t tell anyone. I have a bunch of these.” She sat on a pink sofa tucked into one end of the long, thin room. “Given what on earth happened to you, I’m deeming you worthy to see it,” she added with a smile. Tango sat on the sofa as well, feeling how plush the cushions were.

“Guess I’m just that messed up now, apparently,” he chuckled. “Thanks again, Stress.” He took the cocoa happily.

“Anytime! If you need a sit, just come right on over.” She took a sip of her cocoa. “I really do hope Wels gets better though. And Hels too. Can’t imagine being kicked out of your own dimension.”

“Me too, Stress, me too.”

#my fic #to hell and back #tango tek #stressmonster #xisuma #helsknight #evil xisuma #helsknight x evil xisuma #hels x ex #long post

[echoes-of-the-clockwork]

Book Four: War (Gladiolus x Reader) Chapter Nine

(Y/n) and Gladio enter the Crow's Nest. They spot Cor sitting at the bar with a cup of coffee. Hearing them approach, he places his warm beverage down. "'Bout time." He looked at the shield as he sat down, but his attention was diverted to the Horseman standing behind him. "Never expected your friend was a Horseman, Gladio."

"You two know each other?" The brute asked.

"We've meet a couple of times, nothing more." He turned around and gave his full attention to the redhead. "Nice to see you again, War."

"You as well, Marshal," (Y/n) replied.

One of the servers behind the counter walks over to take Gladio's order. "What'll it be?"

"Just a water's fine," Gladio said. "Thanks."

"And what about you, miss?"

"I'm fine," the Horseman replied.

The server walks away. Cor focuses his gaze forward, pushing his cup of coffee aside. "Allow me to ask you once more: are you sure you're ready to take on the Blademaster?"

(Y/n)'s eyes narrow as she listened to the conversation. She decided to keep her lips sealed, wishing to support his decision.

"I went up against the high commander and got my ass handed to me. I didn't stand a chance. And I never will unless I get more power," Gladio explained.

"Then answer my question: are you ready or not?" The marshal asked.

"You think I would've called you here if I weren't?"

Cor turns his head and looks Gladio directly in the eyes. "So you're ready to face death?" Both men are silent for a moment before the marshal continues. "Gilgamesh awaits challengers in the deepest recesses of those ruins. It's been thirty years since we uncovered the caves. We've sent countless expeditions, but all of our efforts have afforded us no rewards...and no survivors."

"Except for you," Gladio corrected. "You undertook the trial, and you made it back alive."

The marshal said nothing for a long moment. Finally, he casts his eyes down as he speaks, "Barely." He gets up from his seat. "Let's move."

(Y/n) and Gladio follow Cor out of the Crow's Nest. They left the rest area and headed towards the location of the path leading into the Tempering Grounds. During their trek, the marshal was the first to break the silence. "Never in my entire life would I see the one Horseman who hates mankind traveling alongside the king's sworn shield."

"(Y/n)'s been with us for a while now," Gladio explained.

Cor was perplexed at the name, having never heard it. "(Y/n)?"

"My name," the Horseman clarified. "I'm the only Horseman who refuses to let go of their true name. Guess I never told you that, marshal."

"You haven't told me much, War," Cor retorts. "Out of all the Horsemen I talked to the day before the empire attacked, you clearly didn't want to talk. I could tell how much you abhorred the idea when His late Majesty asked you and your sisters to help evacuate the city. You've changed."

"Good," she stated. "Change is what I was hoping to achieve."

Cor then changed the subject of the conversation, his next question being directed at Gladio. "Did you tell your friends why you were taking off?"

"Just said it was "business." Didn't want 'em getting all worried about me," Gladio said.

"Or knowing your pride took a beating," Cor remarked. "But you're fine telling a Horseman."

"Yeah, well, she would've found me whether I told her or not."

The crimson-haired girl lifted her head and glanced at him. "You seriously think I would've tracked you down?"

"No, but if one of the guys were to ask, you would've," he stated.

She looked away. "Can't deny that..."

Proceeding into the Tempering Grounds, they're almost immediately greeted by the sight of corpses of long-dead warriors littering the gorge. Some were impaled to the stone walls with weapons, hanging lifelessly. Walking past a few, they stopped for a brief second when witnessing smoke-like azure-colored energy float down into the corpses. As the strange aura flowed into the dead warriors, they slowly rose to their feet.

(Y/n) glanced around at the undead warriors as they stalked towards them. "My kind of people."

Gladio was shocked by the reanimated corpses. "They're alive?!"

"Not for long!" Cor leapt into action, cutting down one of the undead warriors. Gladio summoned his greatsword while War conjured her own crimson-bladed sword. They sliced through the reanimated corpses, continuing forward.

Enemies fell one after another. Cor, Gladio, and (Y/n) used their combined strength to cut a path through the reanimated corpses. The moment War yanked her blade out of an undead warrior's chest, an unfamiliar voice rang out. "Have you come to prove your might?"

For a split second, Gladio ceased fighting to question the voice. "Who are you?"

"One of many who haunt these grounds, following our leader in death as in life. Naught but our souls remain, clinging to the vestiges of our past."

"Why?"

"To test those determined to become the King's Shield, and prepare them to inherit the power they pursue."

"The Blademaster's men have sworn their loyalty both before and beyond the grave, scaring off the unworthy," Cor stated, slicing another walking corpse in half.

"Then they'd better prepare for disappointment. I don't scare easy." Gladio swung his greatsword around, striking down a pair of enemies.

(Y/n) switched to a bow, finishing off the last undead warrior with a single arrow to the head. She dematerialized her weapon with a huff. "Looks like that was the last one."

"Keep on your guard," Cor warned.

They proceeded deeper into the Tempering Grounds. They made their way through a crevasse, where they soon came to a cavern entrance requiring them to crouch to gain entry. A short distance within, they come to a rapidly running brook streaming down a slope. Gladio stared at the rushing water. "Only way to go is down..."

Gladio gets into the water and lets it carry him down into the depths of the cavern, landing in an area filled with water slightly higher than ankle-deep. (Y/n) and Cor followed the shield and rode the water down the slope, landing beside him in the shallow pond.

Sensing a threatening presence from the water, War summoned her sword. "Prepare yourselves. We've got trouble."

Suddenly, an enormous snake called a brunnrsomr emerges from the water and targets the trio. Gladio armed himself, not frightened by the creature's size. "He ain't going down without a fight."

They faced off against the large brunnrsomr. The Horseman remembered her tactics when she fought against the midgardsormr in the Cleigne region. Although the snakes were different, their movements were nearly the same and she easily was able to slice off its tail. It wriggled around in pain, but it was soon silenced by Gladio and Cor.

"Well done, War," the marshal commented. "Your quick thinking made what could've been a lengthy battle a short one."

"Yeah, well, this isn't my first tango with a large snake," she stated. "Once you've fought one, you've fought them all. Only difference is their scale colors."

While the two were chatting, Gladio noticed the cavern began to take on an eerie green hue. He looks around when he could no longer hear (Y/n) or Cor to find himself alone. Then, he noticed a hooded humanoid silhouette materialize from azure smoke. The figure wields a katana in its right hand, its left arm missing. "You come to prove yourself worthy of my mantle?" The figure questioned.

"I do. I am here to undertake the Trial of Gilgamesh," Gladio replied.

"And what is it you hope to glean?"

He raises his hand and clenches it into a fist. "Power-and you're gonna give it to me."

Gilgamesh dispells his katana. "Is that so?" He replaces the katana with a large broadsword, then quickly charges at Gladio.

"Ready or not!" The shield shouts, conjuring his greatsword. He faces off against the Blademaster, swinging his sword and dodging attacks. However, Gilgamesh was powerful and easily absorbed the brunt force of Gladio's attacks. Nothing could stun him and he was able to knock the brute over time and time again.

Eventually, Gladio finds his sword locked with Gilgamesh's in a recreation of the position he was in when he fought Ravus. The Blademaster was unfazed as he looked down at the shield. "Brute force alone does little to impress. Only he who possesses both muscle and mettle of equal caliber deserves the honor of fighting beside the Chosen King as his sworn Shield."

Gladio briefly flashes back to his confrontation with Ravus before questioning the entity in front of him. "You saying I don't?"

Gilgamesh breaks their sword lock, knocking Gladio to the ground. "A great evil threatens the people of your world. It is but the King of Kings and his Shield who can safeguard their lives. All those unworthy or unwilling to rise to the task meet their end here, by my blade."

"I ain't meeting mine any time soon. This "trial" hasn't even begun," he spat.

"If you do not fear death, then go forth with reckless abandon and prove your worth." The Blademaster turns and vanishes in a cloud of azure smoke. The lighting of the cave returns to normal.

After a silent moment alone, Gladio speaks aloud to himself, "You are ready for this."

"In that case, let the trials begin," Cor said.

The shield turned around and found both the marshal and (Y/n) standing a few feet away. He walked over to them, amber eyes focused on the man. "So, the Blademaster..."

"He's a master of blades," Cor responded. "What-were you expecting something profound?"

Gladio looked over at the Horseman. "You've ever heard of him?"

"These caves were discovered thirty years ago, right? There's no way I would know anything about Gilgamesh. This is the first time I've heard of him," she said. "Thinking back, I never even read about someone named Gilgamesh in the books Vanaheim had to offer. But who knows? Maybe my people did know of his existence."

Cor's brows knitted together in bewilderment. "Vanaheim? The last time I heard that name was years ago. How do you know about it?"

"We have one helluva story to tell you, marshal," Gladio said. "Let's find a place to rest before we go into any details."

The three continue on, scaling a small ledge and ascending a stone stairway that begins to lead them up out of the cavern. Before long, they come to a campsite. They sat down and decided to rest for a short while.

"You wanna tell him?" Gladio asked the Horseman. "Or should I?"

(Y/n) met Cor's gaze. "Vanaheim was my kingdom and I was once its queen nearly a millennia ago. Of course, my title of queen rings hollow and holds no meaning. You mentioned an expedition. What was King Regis hoping to find?"

"The Crystal," Cor answered. "Our hopes were to locate it and bring it back to the city. However, our expedition team never returned."

"Hate to break it to you, but no one will be able to find Vanaheim or the Crystal," she said. "Not even the empire."

"So it isn't a myth..."

"No. If it was..." She summoned a dagger, admiring the scarlet crystal shards that appeared. "I wouldn't be able to use its power. Even if you were to find Vanaheim at the bottom of the ocean, there's no way you'd be able to extract the Crystal. It remains in the throne room of my palace, untouched by the erosion of the current and time. It shall forever remain out of grasp. Not even the Tidemother would help."

"Sounds to me like it's safer at the bottom of the ocean," Gladio chimed in.

"It is."

"The damned soul of a queen accompanying the soon-to-be King of Lucis," Cor chuckled. "Not even the craziest person could make that up. Even I'm having difficulty believing that."

"Whether you believe it or not doesn't change the fact that it's the truth," (Y/n) remarked.

"I'm sure you'll have me believing before this trip is over with."

The three rested for a little while longer at the campsite before deciding to continue their trek. Cor warned Gladio and War to be wary of their surroundings as they left the campsite located in the Alcove of Reprieve.

Continuing to make their way through the cavern, the disembodied voice they first heard when facing against the undead warriors projected its voice once again to Gladio. "Your skill is impressive. You may have the strength to defeat the darkness...but do you have the spirit to survive these trials?"

"For a departed soul, it sure has a lot to say..." (Y/n) mumbled.

"You mean like you?" Gladio smirked.

The Horseman was silent for a few seconds before replying, "...I walked right into that one."

The shield guffawed at her response. "Couldn't pass up the opportunity."

Deeper into the cavern, they encountered more enemies. They fought against the powerful adversaries, but they proved to be more challenging than the previous battles. Cor and Gladio remained on the front lines while (Y/n) backed away to provide healing. It was minimal and only healed the minor scrapes and bruises from the fight. She remained on healing duty for a time before switching to offensive magic. Using a fire incantation, she fried a few enemies that were trying to attack her allies from behind.

With the way now clear, they proceeded forward. They come to a wall made of rock formations curved inward on one another. It also appeared to be sealed by a magical talisman consisting of a sword stuck in the ground with several ropes tied to it. What caught their attention the most was the blade of the sword radiated with cerulean energy.

"Ooh, fancy," (Y/n) blandly stated.

Gladio admires the sword. "What's this?"

"A trial chamber," Cor explained. "The hand-holding stops here-good luck."

Without wasting a second, Gladio grabs the grip of the sword. The ropes vanish in a flash of light and he pulls the blade from the ground. The entire weapon then vanishes in a burst of light. The rock wall crumbles away, revealing a small cave. He enters, leaving the marshal and the Horseman behind.

Cor watched Gladio enter the trial chamber before turning his gaze towards the redhead. He crossed his arm with a stoic expression. "So tell me-what do you hope to gain by traveling with His Highness?"

She glared lightly at him. "You make me sound like I have an ulterior motive. Do you believe I'd hurt Noctis or any of his retainers?"

"His late Majesty believed you and your sisters were trustworthy and I would never second-guess his judgement," the marshal responded. "I only want to know why you made such a decision to travel with them. You're clearly capable of handling anything or anyone that comes your way."

"My sisters brought up a couple good points. Speaking honestly, they're the ones who convinced me to travel with His Highness. They said it could possibly help my hunt and they were right. The bunyips are dead and the only monster that remains is the dullahan. They also mentioned I could teach Noctis a thing or two."

"And how'd that go?" Cor asked out of curiosity.

"Well. He's a fast learner, I must say. I thought it would've been a pain in the ass to teach him."

"Never expected a Horseman to aid His Highness on his journey. I know whatever you teach him will be invaluable."

"Let's just hope he took my teaching to heart. I'm not the best of teachers..."

Their attention was drawn to the trial chamber when they heard a strange sound. Entering the chamber, they follow after Gladio when the stone wall recedes, revealing a hidden path.

"Stand tall, for the Shield of the King must kneel in subjugation before no man," the disembodied voice said to the shield.

"Thanks for the advice-and for the pick-me-up," Gladio remarked. Making his way down the passageway, he came across the campsite located at the Cliffs of Calm. There, Cor and (Y/n) regrouped with him.

"Well, you made it out alive. Your first trial may have ended, but many more await you on your road to an audience with the Blademaster. Prepare yourself," Cor said.

Due to their recent battles with powerful enemies and Gladio facing his first trial alone, the trio needed to recuperate their strength. They opted to rest at the campsite for a short while before heading to the next trial chamber.

While Cor and Gladio chatted with one another, (Y/n) got to her feet and wandered to the ledge near the campsite. Her eyes focused on the darkness of the deep abyss below. The deeper they delved into Taelpar Crag, the less sun that reached the lower levels. Haphazardly, she stepped closer to the edge. The top of her shoes hung over the ledge as her upper body tilted forward. Her entire body began to fall forward, but someone grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the ledge.

Turning her head, War saw Gladio had been the one to keep her from falling. She blinked in surprise at seeing him glare at her, staring into his amber eyes. "What's with the scary look?"

"You weren't seriously expecting to fall, were you?" He questioned, his voice lower than usual.

She casted her (e/c) eyes down at the ground. "Maybe I was. I'm no stranger to the cold embrace of death. Sometimes I even prefer it. Why stop me? You know the fall wouldn't kill me."

His grip tightened on her arm. "You may not be bothered by death, but I am. Seeing your lifeless body every time I close my damn eyes is too much for me. And don't even get me started on when you died from blood loss that day in Malmalam Thicket. If you think I'm gonna let you fall to your death by throwing yourself off this cliff, you've got another thing comin'."

She freed herself from his grasp. "You just need to focus on the trials. You're here to get stronger, not deal with my issues. I can handle those myself." She stepped away from the cliffside and walked toward the pathway leading up. "If you're done resting, we should head out."

Gladio didn't want to spark an argument with the Horseman in such a dangerous place. He decided to drop the subject and focus on the task ahead. "Right... Let's get going."

#ffxv #ffxv x reader #final fantasy xv #final fantasy xv x reader #gladiolus amicitia #gladiolus x reader #gladio x reader

[ditch-witches]

Eyeliner II (Dean-Charles Chapman Smut)

thank you to the darling @chokopieeater​ for the gorgeous moodboard. i love you

(PART ONE)

requested: yes/no (I am but y'all's humble servant.)

pairing: band member!Dean-Charles Chapman x reader

warnings: smut shit, lots of filler crap as well

word count: 4k (º-º)

a/n: I just wanna thank my girl, Iv, again and that superior 5sos album for getting me through this.

After your first date, you and Dean became inseparable, quickly falling head over heels into your relationship. It had gotten to the point where even when you weren’t with him, he was always on your mind. Little things reminded you of him like the incessant pencil tapping or pen clicking from the guy sitting beside you during lab or your green sweater that he always seems to compliment and can’t stop touching whenever you wear it.

You could be gone for hours on end, not intentionally, but because of Dean’s shitty car. You didn’t know what make or model but it was some kind of Frankenstein’s motor-monster and you never complained about it. Most of the time it had a mind of its own, and Dean had made it his mission in life to tango with its independence from him. There would be times when he’d be driving the two of you to a movie or dinner---the both of you attempting to talk over the loud radio that had only two volumes: ear rape and silent---when it would just sputter out and die, leaving the two of you to walk towards the next town over in hopes of finding a gas station. In complete honesty, you enjoyed the car. It gave you more time with Dean, who never seemed to get frustrated at it. Whenever it did break down, you always expected to look over and see him red in the face, his knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel too hard, but instead you received a shrug and him holding his hand out to help you out of the piece of shit. That was another thing, the passenger side door was stuck shut so you had gotten pretty good at slipping in and out of the window. Dean claimed it was because the car was meant to race; “a stallion” to be more specific.

You knew the door was just rusted shut.

When you weren’t pushing the stallion to the nearest auto parts store on a Friday night, you and Dean found yourselves cooped up in one of your apartments or out with a group. Your friend still insisted on going to each of the band’s shows, which you really didn’t mind anymore, especially since you got to experience Dean’s confidence on stage being the one that mirrors his confidence in the bedroom. Your friend knew you and Dean had gone out a few times, but you were positive she wasn’t aware of just how much the two of you were together. And that you were thankful of, knowing full well she would blow everything completely out of proportion and make you think too much about having him around.

One day, when your late afternoon classes were canceled due to the professor’s spontaneous trips to Israel, you had the perfect opportunity to tangle yourself up with Dean. The warm glow in the room mixed with your after sex bliss as Dean lazily strummed a guitar (often finding ways to catch your attention with old riffs from The Cure, his favorite being Lovesong), propped up on the window seat tucked in the corner beside his bed. His curls, rather wild and untamed from the lack of hair product and working from your fingers. His eyes seeming brighter as the light from outside drew lines across his face. You twisted in his comforter to stretch your back as you watched him furrow his brows in an attempt at pulling chords from his memory and matching them with others.

You could prop your chin in your hand and listen to him hum slightly, in his own little world, until the end of time if you were given the opportunity. His voice was always slightly raspier, especially in moments like this. His acoustic versions, especially of the Cure, had become your favorite, mainly because you knew they were just for your ears and something about having such intimate gifts from him made your moods fuzzy and soft. The first time you stayed over, you were surprised there hadn’t been sheet music thrown about, expecting to find it shoved in awkward hiding spots of his room, but it was mainly on the window seat, where he usually played, or his desk on the other side of the room. You loved seeing him finally getting something he was happy with or constructing a lyric he liked and feverishly looking for clean space in his notebook to write it down before he forgot and it was gone forever. He seemed to have been writing a lot lately.

“Did you ever play an instrument?” He asked, his eyes darting up to look at you through his long eyelashes as he threw the notebook and pencil on the ground next to him. “I mean, besides in marching band.”

You snorted at his question. “Oh gosh. You’re gonna make fun of me,” you quipped.

“I thought that’s what we did, gorgeous?” He answered with a smug look on his face. “Come on, tell me.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “I used to be really into the Dixie Chicks, so I learned how to play the banjo.”

He laughed in disbelief. “No.”

“Yes,” you nodded, wincing slightly.

He giggled. “Wait,” he wet his lips and sat up slightly, beginning to strum an all too familiar song. “You’re going to have to help me with the words.”

“Dean, stop-”

“CoWbOy, TAKE ME AWAY-” You bolted from his bed and took the guitar from him as he giggled, grinning at you like an idiot. You took a seat across from him, tucking one of your ankles under your leg and shivering slightly, only Dean’s t-shirt and your shorts to keep you warm after being bundled up for so long. You rested the guitar in your lap and Dean crossed his legs, scooting closer to you.

“Never do that again,” you grumbled and he laughed again, lacing his fingers together. “Since you always play for me…” You strummed your hand across the wires, the instrument feeling more foreign than when you picked up a flute last year for the first time since high school. You chuckled shortly, “I’m a little rusty.” Dean couldn’t help but beam as you blushed mildly, beginning to play what you could remember of I Believe in Love’s chorus. As you sang lightly, trying not to seem like you were putting much effort behind what you were doing, you caught his gaze and he inhaled rather sharply, his eyes dancing with softness as he watched you. You smirked slightly as he watched you closely, seemingly loving every second of your short song, physically gushing as he usually bright smile eased blissfully. You finished, looking at him with a sarcastic, “Taddah.”

He leaned forward, his hand wrapping around the back of your neck to close the space between you, searing the moment into your memory with a kiss you could feel in your toes. He always kissed you like everything was relying on the way he did it. With Dean, every kiss mattered, but this kiss seemed to encompass everything he wanted to say. The sweet taste of your vanilla chapstick blended with the smell of his cologne as his warm breath flared over your cheek. You sighed against his lips moving your hands into his hair and relishing his actions.

You don’t remember getting home that night, but as you damn near floated into your apartment, you figured not even your essay due the next day could ruin your mood. Of course, that was until you realized your friend had gotten home before you and was standing in the kitchen with a juice box. Your eyes went slightly wide at the shock and she tilted her head. “Where’ve you been?” Her smirk meant she knew exactly where you were.

You shrugged slightly, “Studying. I had the afternoon off.”

“It’s seven.”

“...Right…” Your eyes darted around the room.

She bit back a wider grin before moving around the counter towards you. “Must have gotten a lot of homework done then. What subject? Anatomy?” You rolled your eyes at her joke and she pulled you into a hug, fully welcoming you home before leaning back from you quickly. You looked at her with furrowed brows and she narrowed her eyes. “You smell familiar…”

You chuckled. “Am I not supposed to?”

“No, you smell familiar, but not like you. You smell like Dean.” You pursed your lips together, looking at her like she was crazy. “Dean’s still the one you’re sneaking around with!” Her expression flipped on a dime to excitement and she giggled. “I KNEW IT.”

“STOP.”

“Jeez, that’s why he’s so happy. I mean, more than usual.” You sighed as she continued. “God it totally makes sense though. That why he ALWAYS LOOKS AT YOU LIKE HE’S IN LOVE WITH YOU-”

“QUIT. HE’S NOT IN LOVE WITH ME.”

“Dean wants to marry you. He wants to kiss you. He wants to lOooVe you,” she teased, dancing slightly to her own song. You closed your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose between your index finger and thumb. “How is your boyfriend, anyway? I’m assuming that’s where you were today.” You threw your bag down on one of the kitchen chairs.

“He’s not my boyfriend, cut it out,” you grumbled.

“Sure seems like it. You blush every time I say his name,” she jeered, her voice still sing-songy as she moved back into the kitchen.

The fact that Dean wasn’t your boyfriend seemed to echo through your mind until his next show, which happened to be in a much larger venue. You weren’t sure how you felt about coming to the realization that the two of you had never really set a label. Did you even want a label? The two of you hadn’t really been keeping your relationship private, but maybe it was for a bigger reason that you had given thought to. You and your little sidekick in the shape of your best friend made your way to the venue, her almost tripping over her shoes a few times with excitement. There weren’t any seats, in fact, the place reminded you of a warehouse and it made complete sense having been set up by the bassist and the drummer when Dean and the other guitar player just had to trust the guys. You couldn’t help but smile at the fact that it was incredibly packed. A sense of pride rushed through you, proud of the band slowly climbing the ladder yet still keeping it fun. You also knew Dean would be feeding off this high for at least a week after the show.

Your friend dragged you to the front by the tight grip she had on your arm, landing the two of you in almost the front row. The people around you smelled like beer and were already cheering and yelling, making you laugh slightly. Anytime college kids had the opportunity to throw each other around to punk music, they would. Your friend smiled at her phone before clicking it off and shoving it in her pocket, looking over the crowd and waving her arm in the air. You furrowed your brows, attempting to see who or what she was trying to wave down. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” she commented, biting back a grin and putting her arm down. You shook your head at her and someone came around you to pull her into his arms. She giggled wildly as he kissed her. You recognized him as the drummer. The two had been very vocal about their whereabouts after she had given him her number. Dean was at your side, giving your arm a nudge and furrowing his brows at the two, probably mimicking your expression. “What are you guys doing out here?” She asked, through a bright smile. You scoffed like she didn’t just wave them down.

“Relax, no one knows it’s us,” Dean joked from beside you. “They came for the booze.” He seemed oddly calm for such a big event, but there was something off about him. The two laughed at him before joining in their own conversation. Dean leaned closer to your ear, “Can we go somewhere?” You nodded and followed him away from the crowd and towards the backstage area before turning towards a bathroom. You looked around the space, it was disgusting but you didn’t mind.

He shoved his hands in his pockets. There was definitely something wrong. Was he nervous? “Are you okay?” His usually bright face was smothered with slight worry. You could tell he wanted to reach out to you.

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

He bit his lip. “I don’t know, you’ve gotten weird… Did I do something?”

You scoffed, shaking your head quickly. “No, I just…” You ran a hand through your hair and he watched you closely, the same look flashing behind his eyes as when you were playing for him. “She found out about us and,” you shrugged, “it just got me thinking.”

Dean fought against his smirk as he took a step towards you. “That’s never a good thing, love,” he joked, making the tension lighten. “What were you thinking about?”

You scoffed. “It’s not really a big deal-”

His eyebrows picked up. “Quit.”

“Did I become a groupie?” You asked, a smile playing on your lips, causing him to give into his grin. You hated to do this before his show, but it didn’t seem to bother him.

“Are you also fucking the other guys?” He sarcastically quizzed, his arms finally moving to rest on your shoulders before sliding down so his hands settled on your neck, the cool metal of his rings bringing enticing goosebumps to litter your skin. You looked up at him, quietly wishing you could take him home around this time. Damn, were you really this whipped?

“I mean, the bass guy has been looking awfully yummy lately…” You mocked, your eyes dancing between his lips and his bright blue eyes. He chuckled at your answer.

“Do you wanna be just a groupie?” He asked in more of a whisper.

You were surprised as your tone matched his. “No…”

“Fine, can I be your boyfriend?” He smiled into his question and your gaze snapped to his. “I wanna be your fucking boyfriend, okay.” His tone was so light you couldn’t help but laugh.

His thumb brushed against your jaw, making you melt. “Good.” You grabbed onto the front of his jacket, finally bringing his lips to yours. You made sure this kiss counted more than all your previous ones for him. You could practically taste the relief pulsing through him as his hands moved into your hand. The noise around you died away as you stood on your toes, feet fitting between his sneakers to bring him closer to your body.

He pulled away rather reluctantly, pressing his lips against yours a few times between attempting to talk to you. “I have to quit before I get carried away,” he groaned, kissing your cheek and jaw.

You chuckled. “Promise to get carried away later then?”

“I swear on my life,” he practically growled in your ear. He was back to being Dean again. He pulled away to look you in the eye. “You are so beautiful, you know?”

You rolled your eyes, shoving him away from you. He giggled. “Alright, go get on stage, lover boy.”

He leaned forward to kiss you briefly again before beginning to back out of the bathroom. “To be clear, I’m not going because you told me to. I’m going because I have to, okay?” He joked.

“Dean.” He sent you one last wink before slipping out the door, leaving you to finally grin like an idiot in peace. You joined your friend’s side again and the look she gave you was more than all-knowing as you shook your head at her again. As the band took to the stage, the crowd roared with excitement. Dean was wrong. They had come for them. Maybe it was Dean’s accent because each time he attempted to talk or swore during a song, the girls in the crowd would scream their heads off.

There was something about Dean’s performance tonight that was different for you. Maybe it was the rise he was getting out of everyone and the fact that he was going home with you. You bobbed to the music slightly, your mind flashing to the afternoons with Dean. The grungy man before you, eyeliner smudging from the heat of the lights and exertion of adrenaline, looked different and oozed with confidence that was somehow even more attractive to you now, but when he would grin at one of his bandmates or a sign in the crowd, he was exactly the same. He had made sure to find you in the crowd rather quickly, sending you flirty smirks and a wink every so often. God, he really knew what he was doing. There were times during the set when the bassist would introduce the next song as Dean would take a sip of beer or a puff of the guitarist’s cigarette and the girls behind you would make a comment about being jealous of whatever his lips had touched, making you laugh slightly---a fact you would have told him if you hadn’t known he would bring it up every chance he got.

After the show, the two of you barely made it up the stairs to his apartment before wrapping around each other, hungry to relieve the sexual tension between you during the show. You knew Dean was still running on performer’s high, and you were thankful. Your hands knotted in his hair as the taste of alcohol and cigarettes invaded your senses to blend with the smell of the concert on you both. Your back pressed against his bedroom door as you practically yanked his jacket off his arms, tugging his shirt over his head as he smashed his lips against yours in a disarray of teeth and hair. He slipped his hands under your shirt, pulling it off as well, his lips finding his favorite part of your neck. You moaned as his teeth clashed against your skin, his hand moving to grasp at your breast as he pressed you harder against the door. You ground your hips against him, feeling the wetness between your legs begin to pool.

You pushed off the wall, dragging him with you to the bed. As you fell back into the soft comforter, Dean climbed over you smiling before you locked your lips against his, your tongue pressing into his mouth with a neediness that he seemed to reciprocate as his fingers moved to your zipper, lightly unfastening your pants before dragging them down your thighs and over your ankles. He stood between your legs, getting ready to remove his rings. “Uh-uh,” you almost hissed, making him look up at you smugly. “Leave ‘em on.” He chewed on the inside of his cheek, his smirk making you melt as he hooked his arms around your thighs, his head dipping down.

“As you wish,” he divulged, his breath hot against your core before he began nipping at the skin of your inner thigh. He was in complete control as his mouth moved to press against your clothed center. You moaned slightly, a grin spreading across your face as your head tilted back, his tongue moving against you, drawing patterns as he applied pressure with it. He broke away from you sliding his hands between the fabric of your waistband and skin, your underwear soon falling to the floor. As he settled back into his previous position, you ran your fingers into his hair, pushing it off his forehead so you could fully see his eyes. He flashed you another smug look before attaching his lips to your clit, sucking slightly before slipping his middle finger into you.

“Fuck,” you hissed, your legs wanting to clamp shut around him as he began to curl his finger inside of you, moving to draw a reaction out of you with each of his actions. He flattened his tongue against your core and moved his head from side to side for more friction. You groaned again, needing more of him, which he seemed to notice as he added another digit. You could now feel the rings at the edge of your entrance, giving you a new sensation to moan over. The tension within you tightened as he continued, his tongue lapping against you, bringing you closer to the edge. “Dean, I’m close,” you almost whined, moving your hips to grind against his tongue.

He chuckled and leaned away from you, slipping his fingers into his as you leaned up to tug off his jeans. You scoffed as he connected your lips together again. “You haven’t been wearing underwear this whole time?”

He smiled into your kiss, pushing you back onto the mattress. “No one but you has to know,” he joked.

“Ew, Dean!” You giggled as he kissed your jaw and laughed at your comment. He pulled one of your legs to rest against his hip and positioned himself before you as you drug a hand through his hair. He met your gaze again and despite the fact that he still looked like his rockstar persona, the sparkle in his eye was consistent with the Dean that you would be confident in introducing to your parents one day. He reached a thumb up to brush against your cheek before kissing you softly, a sweet gesture that forced you to wrap yourself around his arms. He pressed into you, fitting against you almost too perfectly as he moaned, bringing music to your ears. He broke away from you only to settle a kiss beside your ear and against your shoulder, beginning to thrust into you. His breath fanned over your chest and you sighed in pleasure. His hand fisted the sheets beside the two of you as he ground his hips against yours. You moved beneath him wanting to find the right angle to push yourself over the edge. You tightened around him, drawing another moan out of him. If the man could be in your ear for the rest of your life, you would thank whatever higher being allowed it to happen every second you could.

He pulled your hips towards him more, driving himself deeper into you and reaching where you needed him most. “Don’t stop,” you moaned, kissing him again as he smiled. You began to feel every inch of him as he moved inside of you, hitting your sweet spot with each of his thrusts. You kissed his jaw softly, your fingers drifting to the curls at the base of his head again. Your toes curled as you finally reached your orgasm, calling out his name and feeling him release as well, riding out your pleasure. As he sank into the covers next to you, you couldn’t fight the smile playing on your lips. One of his arms jutted out to pull your back against his chest, wrapping himself around you and sighing into your hair. His lips brushed against your shoulder blade softly and you tucked into his arms more.

“Thank you for coming to my show,” he mumbled from behind you.

You smirked. “It was like pulling teeth, getting me there,” you answered sarcastically, hearing him laugh lightly.

“I meant the first time. I’m glad you didn’t end up as a groupie,” he hummed, joking rather lazily and you knew he was drifting off. You rolled your eyes with a grin, your hand moving to rest over his, lacing your fingers together.

“I’m glad, too,” you quipped, his heartbeat lulling you to sleep as well.

#dean charles chapman #dean charles chapman x reader #dean charles chapman imagine #dean charles chapman smut #dean x reader #dean charles chapman fluff #fluff #smut #imagine #1917 imagines #1917 imagine #1917 smut #one shot #au #band au #band #musician au #dixie chicks

[afy2018]

The Legends Awaken

Ava bowed and nodded, waiting for the guards to unlock her necklace and handcuffs before turning around and hugging Sara. She collapsed against her girlfriend, placing many pecks against her cheek and forehead before finally landing one on her lips. Sara stutter-stepped back for a moment, laughing as Ava clung onto her.

“Thank you.” Ava sighed, holding her tightly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you so much,” she gasped out, holding back joyous tears.

“I will do anything to protect you, Ava, I love you. To be honest, I don’t know what I would do without you.” Sara confessed against her ear. She sighed and stepped back away from her, “Now, we still have a job to do. You ready for my drama?”

“How bad can it be?”

“Oh, you’ll be surprised.”

Ava rolled her eyes and wrapped Sara’s arm around her hip, tugging her close, as they made their way to the Waverider. She had only spent a small amount of time away from her but had almost forgotten how Sara made her feel. The way she made her laugh and smile and even when they fought, they still reconciled and loved and trusted one another. She felt like a stronger and better person. When they trained or meditated, she could feel their souls entwine and enhance one another. It felt like a dance; an intense tango that always ended with them both prepared for a fight.

Sara strapped herself into the pilot’s seat, waiting for Ava to lock herself in the chair adjacent to her and took off for her home planet. They blasted off into hyper speed, stars zipping past them in a glittering and strobe tube of lights. In a moment, they stopped and jutted forward.

Ava gazed upon this solar system. She had surprisingly never been to Mandalore- because she was never allowed- and had been amazed by the beauty of this tan and olive planet. She could see the green cracks and lines of rivers that scratched across the surface of Mandalore; the way they spread out and littered it like a heat cracked window. It was a cloudy day across the lower left corner of the olive planet and there was a flash of light over the clouds.

She glanced at Sara, unsure why she was flying through a thunderstorm. Sara twisted the Waverider through the clouds, passing by bright objects that seemed to tangle themselves in the clouds. Ava glanced back at Sara, watching as a small smile appeared on her face. She cocked her head and smiled as well.

“What’s the smile about?” She asked.

Sara shrugged as they lowered into their spot. “It’s just that I forgot that the Festival is this week.”

“Festival?”

“There’s this festival they have every year that celebrates the Civil War”

“Oh, I heard about that. When I was learning to be a sentinel, we had to learn about some of the biggest wars. It was our job to stop them, be peacekeepers.” Sara almost rolled her eyes, simply turning her head away and unbuckling her seat belt. “What, what is it?”

She sighed, sucking her teeth before curtly responding, “Nothing.”

“Oh, my god, Sara, what is it?”

“We’ll talk about it later, babe.” Ava quickly followed her out of the ship and onto the war-torn planet. Sara turned back to her, shocking Sharpe with her sudden stop. “Just don’t mention anything about being a Jedi. Mandalorians hate them.”

“Oookay, why?” Ava asked as she walked around Sara.

“Oh, you’ll probably see when we go out to the main square.” Sara cryptically noted. “We just have bad blood with you guys.”

“Is that why your people sided with the Sith?”

“Mm, uh,” Sara stuttered, thinking for a moment, “That’s why our leaders sided with the Sith.”

“Wait, why are we recruiting them then?”

“Because from what I heard, a lot of young Mandalorians are neutral with our cause, they just don’t like the Jedi. Look,” Sara pivoted, following the old path to her family’s plot, “I can explain why we’re not big fans of you guys later, I should first clear some stuff up with my family.” she explained, waving her hands in a nervous manner.

Ava had to admit that seeing this side of Sara was very interesting. She watched her body position change as they walked closer and closer to her house. They must have been on her street because she was almost hiding her face behind Ava while they briskly walked down the crosswalk. Ava slipped her hand into Sara’s, stroking the back of her hand with her thumb.

“It’s gonna be alright,” Ava comforted.

“God I hope you’re right. If you’re not then I blame you,” she nervously joked.

Ava gave her girlfriend a quick squeeze before Sara turned off to one of the largest lots in the area. She gazed at the house that rested in the middle of the metal fenced off area, following Sara up the cobblestone road to the front door. Ava’s eyes followed the curve of the dome roof as it covered a circular house.

“Well, while we’re taking our sweet time, why don’t you tell me about this place?” Ava offered.

“Oh… well, it’s just… an old piece of land my dad inherited from… I honestly don’t know how many generations have owned this, but it was first bought about… 4000 years ago to train the Mandalorian Knights.”

“Who were they?”

Sara stopped in front of the front door and took a deep breath before knocking. “They were Mandalorian Jedi.”

“I thought you said-”

Suddenly the door opened. An older looking man stood in the doorway, his tall frame taking up the entire entrance. His face was scarred and wrinkled. His hair was shorn short enough to reveal his scalp below. Ava looked at his dark eyes that just darted up and down Sara’s body and face. His eyes began to water and his face broke into a warm smile as he lunged out from his spot to embrace Sara. He lifted her up off of the ground, holding her tight.

“Oh my god, you’re still alive,” he whispered.

“I learned to survive from the best.” Sara smiled as he let her down again. “This is my dad, Quentin,” she introduced.

“Hi, Mr. Lance,” Ava nervously greeted, reaching over to shake his hand.

“You gotta name, youngin?”

“Oh, yeah, Ava… Sharpe.”

Quentin nodded shortly and stepped out of the way. “It’s just me here, which is probably for the better. Why don’t we talk in the kitchen, I’ll grab a few drinks.”

“Thanks, daddy.” Sara smiled, following him into the old home.

Ava watched him limp through the house and behind a wall into what must have been the kitchen area. She tightened the buckle on her black jacket as she followed them in, a nervous rush flashing through her veins. This was something that she had never done before, she wondered if Sara could tell if Mr. Lance could tell. They turned the opposite corner to the kitchen and into the dining area. Sara sat down in one of the chairs, pulling out another one adjacent to her for Ava to have. She turned to watch her father’s actions, smiling at the old memories she still had.

“So,” Quentin asked, “I don’t even know where to begin.”

“Neither do I.”

“I guess… how’s Ben been?”

“When I last saw him, he was an old and still sassy man.”

“Hmm,” he chuckled handing them the opened bottles, “He’s always been like that, a stubborn old man who only wanted things his way. What else… what did you do after your training?”

“I lived on Tatooine doing what we do best.”

“Stealing?”

“Becoming a bounty hunter,” she proudly nodded, taking a long drink from her beer.

“So, I take it your her partner?” He asked Ava.

“Yeah, but not in bounty hunting.” She noted.

“Just in life then? Good for you two.” Quentin smiled.

“A bit more, dad.” Sara nervously began. “We’re actually here for the Alliance to Restore the Republic.”

“What are you talking about… I guess that explains why you’re back.” He thoughtfully admitted with furrowed brows. “It’s not safe for you here, both of you, but especially you, Sara. I’m guessing you know?”

“She’s actually a former Jedi.”

“Oh, then you’re even more at risk.”

“Why isn’t it safe?” Ava asked.

“Well, Mandalore has aligned with the Empire.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, so we’re getting ready to move more Empire soldiers here in two months.”

“What happened?”

“We had to protect our planet.”

“What’s happened since I left.”

“You’ve been gone for almost twenty years, a lot’s happened. Things haven’t been going to well and when the Empire came to take over Mandalore, we decided to help them instead. Our mercs are getting ready to ship off soon. I don’t know where, though.”

“We have to tell the Alliance,” Ava told Sara.

“Yeah, umm… we should,” Sara nodded.

“Sara, why don’t you stay a little longer. Diana and Laurel are coming by soon, and we’d like to know how it’s been.”

Sara nodded, looking over at Ava before giving him a small shrug, “I used to work for Jabba.”

“He still has a place on Tatooine?”

“Yeah,” she smirked.

“What happened after you left?”

“Well, four years ago, I joined the Alliance. I now have a ship, a crew, and a rank.”

“Your own ship?”

“Yup, the Waverider. She’s old but reliable.” She joked.

“I wish I was still young enough to do that stuff,” he reminiscently smiled.

“What did you used to do?” Ava asked.

“After Kryze started her reconstruction, I served as one of her guards until this one was born,” She smiled gesturing to Sara. “After she was born, General Kenobi of the Jedi Order came to Mandalore. He saw my daughter and told me that I needed to protect her. I honestly didn’t understand until Order 66 happened. I knew I had to protect you, so I sent you with him.”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“Wait,” Ava interrupted, “You never told me it was General Obi-Wan Kenobi. I thought he was dead.”

“Never.” Quentin smiled, taking another long drink from his bottle. “Now, how did you survive the Purge?”

“I abandoned my post.”

“When?”

“Six years ago, but now I help the Jedi with Sara. It’s a more important cause than pretending to have power while not protecting their own people.”

Sara glanced between Quentin and Ava, watching as the tension slowly faded and he backed down, “At least you two are doing something. I still don’t really understand, but you’re doing something.”

“The Empire is trying to kill off any opposing power and trying to keep the power with the old Senator Palpatine. They are against people like us, people who want a fair democracy or republic. They’re already running their current land as Tyrannies and Oligarchies.”

“That’s not good.”

“Exactly,” Sara nodded.

Quentin nodded and shrugged. “What can I do, sweetie?”

“Inform us on whatever you know so we can give all planets a choice.”

“Hey, Dad, I brought some kri’gee and an orange tart.” A voice called through the quiet home.

“Is that-” Sara asked.

“Yeah,” He began in a hushed tone before calling, “Great, we’re in the kitchen.”

“We,” Laurel laughed, setting the food on the counter. She looked up, spotting Sara’s reflection in the mirror. Her face stuck in a single confused glazed look. She opened her mouth but then closed it as she looked at her. “I thought you were-”

“Dead, surprise.” she tried to joke.

“I…”

Sara stood up and turned to her sister, taking a few tentative steps towards her. Quentin finished off his beer before taking the kri’gee his daughter brought and cracked it open.

“She’s been in hiding,” he explained, pouring out four glasses, “Now she’s back on a mission.”

“I can’t even… I don’t even know what to say.”

“Then don’t just listen.”

“Okay,” Laurel nodded, taking a glass out off of the counter and instantly taking a few swigs of the harshly tart liquor. Her face twisted for a second and then relaxed.

“This is gonna knock you off your ass,” Sara nodded as she moved the glass from Ava’s reach.

“What mission?”

“To fight the Empire.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yes,” She firmly told Laurel.

“Dad?”

“I agreed to help,” he nodded.

“Good, because I’ve actually been working on a case against them.”

“A case? This is an empire, not a court, Laurel.” Sara scoffed.

“I know, but this helps recruit people to my cause.”

“Your cause?”

“Well, I’m a part of the Alliance,” Laurel confessed.

“You, too?”

“Me, too? What do you mean?” Sara pulled out a badge from her back pocket and showed her sister. “Oh, you, too. When?”

“Four years ago, you?”

Laurel pulled out an old rusted badge from the inside of her jacket, “When they initially went around the galaxy five years ago.”

“How have you been able to live, dad said that it’s too dangerous for rebels?”

“Just a sec,” Laurel nodded, walking past Sara and to their other guest, “Hey, Laurel Lance, and you are?”

“Ava Sharpe.”

“Ex-Jedi,” Quentin explained, almost finished with his glass.

“Ex? What do you do now?”

“Recruit with Sara.”

“Hm, okay, good. We need more people. Did you two hear what happened with Alderaan?”

“No, what happened?” Ava asked.

“It was destroyed.”

“When?”

“Four days ago.”

“Oh my god,” Sara muttered.

“What?”

“We were going to go there last week and still would have been there now,” Ava explained, wrapping an arm around Sara’s shoulders.

“How did it happen?” Sara asked.

“The Empire’s Death Star destroyed it.” her sister told them.

“What’s going to happen next?”

“I don’t know. The Rebels have gone quiet. I’m trusting that they have a plan, so I’m still giving them what they need.”

“Me, too.” Sara agreed.

“Death Star?” Quentin asked.

“A large ship that can destroy anything.”

“So you’re recruiting,” he said pointing to Sara, “and you’re gathering secrets, what if you guys had a secret base here?”

“You mean turning this place into a Rebel’s base? Isn’t that a bit dangerous?”

“Well, yeah, but no. When this place was rebuilt, my dad made sure it could still train and contain soldiers in secret just like Old Dorjander did.”

“Dorjander?”

“He was a Mandalorian Knight,” Sara explained.

“He was the Mandalorian Knight.” her father corrected with pride. “He’s why you have your lightsaber.”

“The orange one,” Sara told Ava.

“One of a kind.”

“We should probably go update our commander before he gets worried.”

“You’re already leaving?” Laurel asked, hugging her.

“A Rebel never rests.”

“Please stay in contact,” Quentin asked, embracing his daughters.

“Okay, before I cry, I should go.” Sara joked, pulling out of her family’s grasp.

Sara backed away, looking over her shoulder as they walked out of the old house. She glanced back forward to Ava, reaching for her hand and catching up with her. Sara had to admit that while she was nine when she left Mandalore, she still missed playing and fighting with Laurel, watching her father work, and listening to her mother’s stories. Leaving that house again, felt like too much. For the first time in her life, she just didn’t want to be a part of the Rebel Alliance. She just wanted to stay here and live a normal life. Listen to her sister’s life and help her parents, but as she looked up at Ava, she realized that this was their destiny. Fight until they die, recruit until they drop. Sara rested her head against Ava’s shoulder and kissed the back of her hand.

Ava slowed down and turned back to face Sara, “Do you want to go back?”

“I shouldn’t or else I won’t want to leave.”

“Sara?”

“Yeah?”

“Nothing, I just wanted to let you know I love you.”

“Aww, I love you too.” Sara nodded, knowing there was still something on Ava’s mind.

As they finally got onto Waverider, Sara went to her study, pulling out a small green velvet box from a locked drawer. She sat down in her chair, flipping the box opened and closed. A soft knock on the sliding door broke her thought. Sara quickly shoved the box back into the drawer and locked it again, turning around in her chair.

“Come in.”

The door slid open and Ava walked into the room, resting against the brown oak desk, “Hey.”

“Hi,” Sara smirked, raising a brow. “What’s on your mind, babe?”

“I thought about it for a moment, and while we’re airing our dirty laundry, I should at least be honest with you.” Sara nodded and pulled Ava onto her lap. Ava rolled her eyes and just lifted herself onto the table, letting her legs dangle off the edge. “I’m actually not completely human. I’m a clone. I’ll just let that sink in for a moment.”

“A clone? How are you force sensitive?”

“Sensitivity is a bit random in genetics and rarely occurs in clones.”

“How’d they know?”

“I was originally trained to be a clone trooper, but when I was 13, a very attentive commander pulled me out and sent me to train as a youngling. After that, the only place I knew was the Imperial Palace.”

“I thought the Jedi no longer trusted Clones?”

“They trusted me because I wasn’t one of the clone troopers, I was a clone Jedi.”

“Did they ever try to kill you?”

“That was one of the other reasons why I left the Jedi. I couldn’t be trusted, so why fear for my life every day? You don’t have a problem with me not being human?”

“You are still human, there may be others that look like you,” Sara began, emphasizing her words carefully, “but they are definitely not my Ava.” she smiled, pecking the back of her hand. “Now, I have something for you,” she nodded, pulling herself between Ava’s legs.

“What, a quickie?”

“No, well if you want, but you might like this more.” Sara pushed Ava’s legs out of the way to the locked drawer and pulled out the green box, handing it to Ava. “Open it.” she offered.

“Sara.” Ava smiled, her eyes getting teary.

Sara chuckled to herself and wiped away the small tears, “I don’t know what you think it is but-”

“Shut up.” she retorted, opening the box.

She took out the silver ring embellished with yellow red and orange jewels. In the center was a fiery stone that reflected the colors of a flame, glittering and flowing. She looked at the small yellow stones that encircled one of the double bands, and the orange jewels that covered the other ones. Ava smiled and pulled Sara in closer, leaning down to kiss her. Sara chuckled and took the ring out of its box, holding it out for Ava.

“Oh, my god,” Ava tearily laughed.

“Oh my god yes or oh my god no?” Sara asked.

“Yes.”

Sara smiled as Ava cupped her jaw up and kissed her cheek, then her nose, and finally her lips. She slipped the ring onto Ava’s right ring finger, enjoying the color it added to her hands. Her hands slipped around her new fiance’s hips and pulled the chair until it clicked against her desk.

“Wait, let me put this thing into auto-pilot to Dantooine,” Sara muttered against Ava’s lips.

She stood up and programmed the coordinates into her ship’s navigation before going back to her current task. Sara stood up, wrapping Ava’s legs around her hips, leaning against her until she rested on her elbows, one hand up to hold her chin.

~~~~~~~~~~

A loud beeping broke Sara slumber. She glanced around, pushing up onto her elbows to turn off the alert. After a glance at the notification, Sara pressed the red button labeled, “Stop”. The room fell silent before Ava began to stir awake. She tugged Sara back down, placing a few kisses on her bare breast.

“My lips are up here, you know?” Sara joked, watching as Ava’s tongue glanced over her nipple. “Not that I’m complaining. We landed, so we should leave soon.”

“God, I just want to stay in bed with you,” she softly whined, placing a few more pecks against her chest and shoulders.

“Me, too, but we need to get going, baby-girl.” Sara slid out of Ava’s grasp, pulling on her uniform and locking her belt in place. “Something to get rid of your lady boner, I was gonna propose to you on Alderaan.”

“Really?”

“Yup.”

“You’re right, it did kill my boner,” She sighed, pulling the sheets off and walking to their wardrobe.

“Ms. Lance, Ms. Sharpe?” They heard Cracken call out.

“Who’s gonna take who’s name?” Ava asked.

“Ava Lance?” Sara offered.

“Sara Sharpe, though.”

“I don’t know. Not big on alliterative names.” Sara shrugged.

“Sara?” He called again.

“Indecent!” She answered.

“Oh, when you’re dressed, I’ll be in the meeting room.”

“Thank you,” Ava called through the door.

Sara buttoned up her blouse and pecked Ava, quickly fixing her tucked shirt before escaping to the office. She jogged down the hallways, hearing Cracken’s footsteps through the corridors.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“I’ll wait until Ava joins us.”

“She’ll be out in a minute.”

“How were your planets?”

“Mandalore isn’t safe anymore, but I have some plants who can help with spying.”

“Good. The others?”

“Neutral or on our side.”

Ava joined them on the bridge, resting against the map in the center of the room, cheeks slightly flush from trying to catch up.

“Everyone on Scarif died.”

“Was that you suicide mission?”

“Yes.”

“How many?”

“We’re still counting.” He sighed, pulling out a drive. “We did get something out of it though, a flaw in the Death Star.”

“What?”

“A flaw in the Death Star. Here, take it. Your next mission is going to be taking down the Death Star.”

“Now that is a suicide mission.” Ava laughed in disbelief. “You’re joking right?”

“No. We lost too many people for me to joke around anymore.”

“Are we having any help?” Sara asked.

“Our squads have been training for this mission the past few days. This is our last shot, ladies, we need you. The galaxy needs you.”

“You and your fucking speeches,” Sara hissed, grabbing her jacket and swinging it over her shoulder. “Let’s get started.”

#Avalance #avalance fanfic #ava sharpe #sara lance #LoT #legends of tomorrow #legends of tomorrow fanfic #fanfic #sfw fanfic #jedi #grey jedi #gray jedi #lgbt #femslash #wlw #star wars #star wars fanfic #starwars

[azwriting]

A Jealous Tango (The Writer and The Photographer, Harry Holland x Reader) - Chapter Five

Hi everyone! Here is chapter five sorry it took so long, but nonetheless I hope you enjoy! Also the lack of Harry gifs is disturbing... Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! 

Summary: Harry and (Y/N) go to the mall where much to Harry’s dismay a pretty girl catches a lot of unwanted attention. 

Warning(s): Language, Not edited

Word Count: 2004

Kingston, England was on the verge of June, the warmth of the summer months beginning to stick, and Harry was happy? He felt like the word did little to sum up how he felt but everything was going well, he did not feel that gaping hole in his chest anymore. The vast black hole had seemed to vanish and the British boy had a sneaking suspicion on why.

Knocking on the dark blue door beforehand, Harry let himself into the neighbor’s flat. It had become a regular occurence, for the curly haired boy to let himself in over the past few weeks, his knocks were always drowned out by the blaring tunes. Kicking off his converse Harry tiptoed into the oddly silent house searching for any signs of life. At the white dining room table sat Hayley in a pair of sweatpants and what looked to be an old high school t-shirt, editing a book cover on her laptop. “Hey” She greeted her eyes barely lifting from the brightly lit screen.

 “Hey” Harry responded, scratching the back of his head as his eyes scanned the downstairs for a particular brunette. It’s not that he did not like the twin girls, in fact he got along with them quite well, many of the days and nights of the month of May spent over here. Harry had practically become their fourth roommate and first official British friend. It was just he had plans with one in particular today. 

“She’s upstairs.” Hayley laughed watching Harry’s roaming eyes. 

The boy spun back to face her, “Wha- I didn’t even ask where she was?” The one twin only remained silent, lifting her eyebrows into a ‘seriously’ look, a look which caused a faint blush to appear on Harry’s neck and cheeks.

 “She’s ‘writing’” Hayley added, her hands lifting from the keyboard to do air quotes as she said “writing.” 

Furrowing his eyebrows, Harry gave her a questioning look, “What does that mean?” He mimicked her air quotes. And as if on queue loud thumping was heard from ceiling, Hayley only snickering too herself. “Oh you’ll see.”

Trekking up the stairs Harry heard the faint sound of the thumping again and what he believed to be singing. At the top of the stairs were three white doors, one door to his right was cracked open slightly. He approached the door, the door that led to her room, knocking slightly before poking his head in. The humorous sight on display in front of him had Harry covering his mouth to hide his laughter. (Y/N) clad in black pjs, which to his luck included a pair of shorts, was dancing around her room wildly. Her headphones were in as she twirled and jumped around singing along to the song.

 “Ob la di, ob-la-da, life goes on, bra. La-la, how the life goes on. Ob-la di, ob-la-da, life goes on, bra. La-la, how the life goes on!” She shouted into her imaginary fist of a microphone, eyes closed and completely oblivious to the other person now in her bedroom. A malicious smile worked its way onto Harry’s face, she was practically asking for it. Quietly sneaking up behind her, Harry outstretched his hands ready to attack. (Y/N) continued on in her blissful ignorance, still shouting out the words to the song.

 Her arms shot up as the chorus came giving Harry the perfect opportunity to quickly grab her sides. A loud shriek escaped (Y/N)’s lips, eyes wide in horror as she spun to find Harry laughing and clutching at his chest.  “You fucker!” She screamed, ripping off her headphones, Harry only staggering back to fall onto her neatly made bed. (Y/N) only stood there trying to rein in her racing heartbeat, giving Harry a look that could kill. 

“The Beatles really?” 

“I hate you.” She deadpanned, ignoring his question, and lightly punching his arm. 

“I’m sorry, it was too perfect of an opportunity to give up!” (Y/N) rolled her eyes setting her headphones down onto her desk, still a bit startled. Propping himself up on her bed, Harry eyed her pajamas once again, “Did you forget we are going out today?” For the second time this morning, (Y/N)’s eyes widened. 

“Um..No?” (Y/N) grinned sheepishly at the boy, she had been attempting to get into the writing mood, but had gotten sidetracked. Harry rolled his eyes feigning annoyance but, his large smile betrayed him. 

“Hurry up and get dressed!” (Y/N) gave him a quick innocent smile before rushing into her bathroom with a pile of clothes tucked into her arms.

The Westfield Mall was… overwhelming. Sure (Y/N) had been to the Mall of America, but that was familiar places. As she walked around Westfield, eyes scanning the stores, she realized hadn’t even heard of half of them. Harry had been showing her around, introducing her to new stores for the past hour. The two were quite simply just having fun and enjoying each other’s company.

 “So did you always write or was it something you just stumbled upon?” Harry pondered as he took a large sip from his drink. (Y/N) peeled her eyes away from the patterns on the tile floor, her eyes falling onto his. Both of their hearts leaping just a tiny bit. 

“I think I was always meant to tell stories in some way or another. When I was little, before I could even write full sentences, I would create these little books of just drawings and I would tell stories based on the images to my classmates.” Harry laughed at that, earning him that shy smile of hers that was always destroying his heart piece by piece. “When I got into my early teens, I started writing fanfiction.” Harry lifted an eyebrow at that. “Don’t you say a word!” (Y/N) giggled into the palm of her hand before continuing. “So yes, I guess writing, storytelling, was always in the works for me.” Harry nodded imagining a little (Y/N), pigtails and wide eyes telling stories to the other toothless children in her classroom. 

“Is there a music store in here?” (Y/N) questioned as she swung her bags back and forth, in between her and Harry. “Ye-” Harry’s response was cut off by a high pitched squeal, piercing through the mall nearby. (Y/N) and Harry shared a concerned look before identifying the source, two teenage girls in their school uniforms. The two girls were wide eyed gawking at them from the other side of the hall.

 “Uh-Oh.” 

Harry muttered bracing himself for the ambush. Ever since Tom had risen to fame, Harry started getting noticed just for being Spiderman’s brother. He even had his own fanbase… The girls rushed over, shoes clacking heavily against the white tile.

 “Oh my god, it’s you!” One girl gushed her cheeks burning. 

Harry went to speak up when the second girl interrupted him, “I, well we absolutely love your book!” Harry’s jaw snapped back up in surprise, looking over to a grinning (Y/N). Sometimes he forgot she was famous. 

“Awe thank you!” (Y/N) responded making the girl’s giggle at the difference in accents. 

“Your book really helped me to embrace myself and my inner crazy. It helped me realize that it's okay to be different.” The first girl added. (Y/N)’s eyes shone in admiration, she would never get over hearing how her book had helped others. The book that had taught her to heal was now helping others, it was beautiful. 

“I’m so glad, would you like a picture?” The two girls nodded rapidly, the second retrieving her phone from her purse. “Well perhaps my trusty photographer can take the photo?” 

The girls finally looked over to Harry, eyes widening even more. “Harry Holland!” The girl handed him her phone, both of their eyes flickering back and forth between the Harry and (Y/N). “Are you two friends?” The girls both smirked.

 (Y/N) moved to stand in between the two girls, a large smile on her face. “Yeah, It’s a pretty small world isn’t it?”

(Y/N) and Harry continued on heading towards the music store, conveniently located on the other side of the shopping center. “You know it’s really nice meeting fans…” (Y/N) sighed, trailing off. 

“Yeah?” Harry pushed, of course he knew how amazing it was, but he sensed there was more to her statement. 

“I-I always felt like an outsider growing up, didn’t really fit in with the crowds. Things got better after I met the twins in high school, but I was still different. It warms my heart hearing from people that I, little ol’ me, helped them accept their differences and appreciate it.” Harry offered her a small smile. 

“I know what you mean, I still struggle with feeling on the outside, especially after Tom. Everyone does a great job of making sure my brothers and I don’t feel that way, but sometimes you can’t help feeling like your standing in his shadow. But I don’t feel that with you.” Harry would never admit it, but he felt like he was standing in the blistering hot sun when he was with her, no shadows to be found.

The two split up once they were inside the music store, (Y/N) hunting down a John Williams record while Harry sorted through the CD’s. He did not pay much mind to her until he heard a deep “Hi” echo throughout the store. Harry’s head instinctively lifted searching for the origin of the greeting, finding something much to his dismay. A tall brunette worker stood in front of (Y/N), grinning down at her. Harry stood up straight, the CD’s he was ransaking through now forgotten. He watched as the guy flirted shamelessly with (Y/N), who in return only smiled back. Maybe she was just being polite or maybe she thought he was cute. Whatever the case, Harry’s stomach dropped as he continued to watch the events unfold.

 “You’re American? That’s so cool!” He could not handle it anymore, he could not allow for it to get out of hand. What if he asked for her number? Harry quickly zigzagged through the aisles of music, stopping once he was in front of (Y/N). 

“Hey,” Harry pushed himself in between the tall brunette and his favorite American, “Um… your… Aunt… Jemima called she needs our help!” And with that, Harry wooshed (Y/N) out of the music store, her record hunt being abandoned. 

“Harry!” (Y/N) called in protest, but he only continued to guide her out into the main hall of the mall. “My Aunt Jemima? The syrup lady? What the hell was that about?” (Y/N) demanded once they were far enough from the store. She could almost laugh at his excuse, but she was not sure as to why he felt the need to use it. 

“I was saving you from that asshole back there.” Harry simply stated as they walked towards the exit.

 “What? Harry he was only helping me find my record!” 

He rolled his eyes at that, “Oh please! Helping my ass!” (Y/N) scoffed crossing her arms, her bags whacking Harry slightly.

 “Oh so what about the girl at the burrito place? Was she just helping make your burrito?” Harry’s head whipped over to look at her, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

 “This is different, she was just doing her job.” (Y/N) laughed at that, head dropping back for dramatics. 

“Oh did her job include being all over you and not so subtle winks?” That silenced Harry, he did not recall the girl being over the top like that. His attention had been elsewhere… 

“I didn’t notice.” 

(Y/N) sighed once again, uncrossing her arms. “I swear on everything, I’m going to kick your ass when we get home.” Harry smirked, nudging his shoulder into hers. 

“Oh… I’m getting a little excited!” (Y/N) bit back a laugh, both of the friends returning to their previous calm and joyful moods. Neither one wanting to admit that there bickering had been about the jealousy growing inside them. 

“Stop or else I’ll have to call Aunt Jemima.”

Taglist: 

@aloneinherroom​

@ineedabifriend​

@with-my-soul-and-heart​

#Harry Holland #harry holland imagine #harry holland x reader #harry holland x you #Harry holland x y/n

[writing-the-end]

LoL Chapter 18- Mind and Body

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU and Red belongs to @theguardiansofredland )

After the success of their first day among the elite, a new dawn rises and the hermits continue to prove their worth as a guild and as wizards. From the distance, however, people are watching the hermits much more closely than just if they win or lose.

____________________________________

Somehow, the hermits were in the lead. By the end of the first day, they were leading the boards. Even though they lost the pageant and footrace, their domination of the quick draw, the sea race, and Tango’s evening flight race has them ahead. Behind them, the other two nonguild teams were tied for second. The points from there on were a mess between the guilds.

It was an underdog story for the ages. Three ragtag teams leading the Chimaera’s Championship. Guilds will train for years to win even a bronze medal in the games. They select their teams from only the best, never ceasing to push their limits. And yet, nothing can compare to the determination and skill these outcasts held. Even the hermits had to admit, Team Crafted and the wanderers were strong. But more than that, they were both a team. Just like the hermits.

“I’ve got this, guys.” Iskall laughs, twirling a rod of iskallium in his hand. “These mega guilds won’t know what hit them when they see my sharpshooting skills.”

“I mean, we are winning right now, but...I really wanna win them all.” Mumbo’s had a taste for competition, and now he wants more. “But I’m not so worried about the guilds as I am the other teams that are tied.” 

Iskall looks over his shoulder, seeing Avon observing the distance between where she stands to the target down the field. “I think she’s all bark and no bite. I’m gonna show everyone the power of iskallium after today.” 

“What kind of mage even is that?” Mumbo questions, noticing the massive black wings on his opponents back. “Is that like Ren’s misfired werewolf mimic?” 

“Nah dude, don’t you know anything?” Iskall spikes his iskallium rod into the ground. “That’s a draconic mage.” 

“Are they rare? Like...rare as Grian’s sky angel magic or my multi-magic?” Mumbo has never heard of a draconic mage, though he never really learned things like this from his parents. His mood immediately sours at the thought of them. He hopes they’re not here, watching. Or does he? 

“Eh, in a way. Not quite like you guys. It’s more of a… finding the right teacher kind of problem.” Iskall sees Mumbo’s confusion only grow. “They have to learn from dragons, dude. Not exactly the most trusting beasts, those big lizards of doom. But don’t worry about that- it’s not like you’ll have to face anything like that.” 

“Good luck, Iskall.” Mumbo whispers, retreating as the event starts. He was the only hermit willing to wake up this early for the event. Most are still somewhat drunk from celebrating their victories yesterday. No one imagined they’d do this well. Though, a few were dizzy, and Tango even struggled to get out of bed. 

One by one, down the line, wizards use their magic to strike the target. Everything from flecks of dirt to pillows shot at the haybales. One art mage even draws up their own arrows and sends them flying. Some strike near the bullseye, others don’t even reach the target. It was a close match for the former. The drawn arrow was almost perfectly center, just millimeters from landing a perfect score. 

Iskall knows he has to be better. He gets three shots. Three tries. His emerald eye flicks across the field, measuring the distance between himself and the target. Three shots and he’ll win. He feels the wind in his hair, blustering for a second and ruining a shot of the person next to him. Three shots and he’ll prove he’s a mega sharpshooter. 

It’s his turn. He draws out his rod of iskallium, his own element of creation. It’s radioactive, but he’s immune to it. He can feel the power, the energy within the rod. Energy he plans to use to make a clear, perfect shot. He reels his arm back, and throws the first rod. As soon as it’s airborne, he releases a burst of radioactive energy from the projectile, sending it burying into the target. A near perfect hit. 

His next shot is almost identical, though the wind as his rod nears the target pushes it slightly off center. His shoulders sag, a weight pressing down on him, pressing in on his lungs. As long as he doesn’t miss the center ring, he’s got the event in the bag. 

He doesn’t miss. Iskall offers a coy smile beneath his beard, though inside he’s freaking out. He’s currently winning a championship event. He stays calm, but in his mind he’s already celebrating. Doing his own little dance in the sand at his feet. 

Until a barb whizzes down the field, burying into the center ring. He opens his eye, staring at Avon beside him. Her eyes are trained on the target, like a predator stalking it’s prey. Her wings are slightly ajar, counterbalancing her weight from throwing the poison barb forward. She straightens, another projectile appearing in her fingers. He can see purple toxin dribbling from the tip of the barb. The gaze never falters, determination locking her in. She twists around, launching the barb like an arrow in the wind. It digs into the hay-filled target, the larger base of the barb brushing against her first target. 

“No...way.” Iskall whispers. The wind picks up. Surely that will mess her up, right? He was Iskall, deadeye of doom. Nothing can stop him. The last barb flies in slow motion, her throw slightly curved against the wind. Letting the breeze push it to center. 

The tip of the barb splits through the first shot. A perfect bullseye, not once but twice. Iskall has no ability to be bummed that he only got silver- that was mega awesome. Avon seems calm, collected even as she receives her medal, albeit tired. Exhausted physically, but never betraying what she’s thinking or feeling. 

Mumbo and Iskall are still talking about the sight when Grian and a few other hermits join them in the stands. “So, how’d it go?” Grian sings, trying to be as bouncy as usual despite sleep still holding his eyes. He notices the silver medal hanging off Iskall’s neck. “What?! How’d you only get second? You’re like...the best shot i’ve ever seen, Iskall.” 

“Those three wanderers, bro. I’ve never seen a least conspicuous group ever...but wow.” If it wasn’t for their lack of members, they’d give the hermits a run for their money. At least they have that going for them. “So G-man, you ready to prove your true talent?” 

“Flying? You bet.” Grian flicks his arms out, and his angelic blue and white wings unfurl from nowhere, appearing like clouds in the sky. “That pageant was just a warmup.” 

He hops onto the railing of the seats, before taking off into the air. Flying among other winged wizards, the hermits can already see his mastery of the sky. On the ground, Etho is warming his muscles as obstacles rise above the stadium. Pillars and rings teeter into the sky, caves and ravines digging in the ground, the dual events taking place at the same time. Neither Etho or Grian were the only nonguild wizards- Ecto is back, snacking on a cactus as she watches the course construct before her. In the air, the basilisk mage, Ty, is testing his wings against his short, lanky body. 

“I don’t know who to watch!” Mumbo whispers, glancing from one course to the next. A firework crackles in the air, and in both the sky and the sand wizards take off. Across the obstacle course. 

“You watch Grian, I’ll watch Etho.” Iskall chuckles, observing as the shadow ninja disappears through a shadow, reappearing in the lead. He bounces off a wall, dropping onto a raised bar and flipping across a pit of acid. Who even made that pit? Seems dangerous. But danger means nothing for Etho, and his incredible agility across the course. 

Mumbo is biting his lip, watching as Grian brushes against a pillar of stone in the sky. Grian’s flying is risky, even in the best of times. The amount of heart attacks Grian gives his best friend on a normal day is spectacular. Today is even worse. He loses a year of his life watching the sky angel plummet from the sky, wings snapping open just in time to fly through a ring, pulling into the lead. Mumbo swears he can see a blue feather sheared off Grian’s wing as his friend squeezes between two rocks. 

“Oh no, not again!” Iskall’s groan turns Mumbo’s attention to the ground. Ecto and Etho are both at the finish line, huffing and puffing as they clasp hands and congratulate one another. Mischievous eyes glimmer and grin, sharing quips and laughing. The two look at the other contestants, but based on Iskall’s outburst Mumbo knows who won. Again. 

“Grian’s winning though!” The two look up, a shadow passing over their seats in the crowd. He’s got a heavy lead, while Ty and a gryphon wizard battle for second. Ty takes the lead, his scaly wings fluttering in the wind and ducking low to go under a blockade. The guild mage flies over, swinging his arm. Magic shoots out, aimed directly at Grian. 

“Is that allowed?” Mumbo gasps, standing up. Grian’s almost at the finish line. He can’t let himself get hit by whatever spell the mage just cast. 

“Go Grian!” Iskall shouts. “Watch out!” 

Grian looks back, eyes widening as the golden magic hurdles his way. He’s so close...he’s not going to lose this. Grian curls his wings, tightening them against his body. He plummets from the sky. Wind whistles across his ears, feathers fluttering and the ground quickly rising up to meet him. But so is the finish line. A blast at his back pushes him into terminal velocity, the guild wizard’s magic blossoming into an explosive barrier. He needs to open his wings, to slow down. But he’ll become a target. So what does he do? 

He closes his eyes. And crashes into the ground. Bouncing off the grass and hurtling over the finish line, Grian wins first place. Blood and bruises quickly appear on his skin and face, but he’s conscious and sitting upright as the coliseum erupts into cheers. Iskall and Mumbo only sigh. For the healer of the guild, he gets himself hurt more often than anyone. 

Once on the sidelines, Etho helps Mumbo wrap bandages around Grian’s wounds. Mumbo shakes his head, prodding a bruise. “That was totally an illegal move, that explosion.” 

“The guilds are pissed that we’re winning.” Etho hums. He tries to manipulate a shadow to cover him against the sun, but frowns when his magic refuses to appear. “You should’ve heard the wizards in the agility course. They think we’re cheating. They don’t get how a bunch of misfits are winning in almost every event.” 

“It’s just cause we’re that much mega better.” Iskall chuckles. “They don’t have the awesome teamwork and diverse wizards like us.” He leans back, watching Joe standing before a sphinx. It’s the riddle event. “Maybe if they stopped worrying about money and status they’d do better.” 

Grian hisses in pain, only for Etho to hush him. From the field, the sphinx stalks Joe. “I am alive, but without breath. I am as cold as life in death. I’m never thirsty, though I always drink.” The feminine voice purrs from the sandy skin of the sphinx’s human face. Feline haunches roll and rock under feathered wings and fur, but Joe only looks to the sky, his glasses hiding the emotions in his eyes as he thinks. “What am I?” 

The hermits hold their breath, watching Joe in the lion’s den. His lips curl up, and his clasps his hands behind his back. “You’re a fish.” 

The sphinx pauses, then dips her head. “Well done, poet. How about this? What can you break, even if you never pick it up or touch it?” 

Joe snickers. “Easy, a heart.” 

“How very poetic, Joe of the Hills.” The creature pauses directly in front of him. “But not what I was looking for.” Teeth snarl and claws glisten, and the embroidered fabric of Joe’s cape is flung across the field, glasses clattering to the side. The hermits collectively wince, even Grian feeling the ache in his bones that Joe will feel come tomorrow. “The next contestant. Ian.” 

The engineer mage bounces to the mark, completely unconcerned by the vicious lion-bodied creature before him. He wipes his brow, leaving a trail of black oil across his forehead. “I’m ready for whatever you got, miss sphinx!”

“Hmm, alright then.” She chuckles, sitting on her haunches. A lion’s tail, with feathered tips, flicks like a clock against the grass. “What can bring back the dead; make you cry, make you laugh, make you young; is born in an instant, yet lasts a lifetime?”

“Memories!” Ian quips, grinning proudly. “Let’s see if you got any better.” 

The sphinx growls. “Alright, engineer.” She offers another riddle. And another answer. Iskall leans forward, biting his lip. The current leader has only two correct answers- Joe and another wizard were the only ones clever enough to come up with correct answers with enough time. One final question. And one final answer. The sphinx stands up after Ian responds, shoulders rolling. “Congratulations, Ian of the Crafted. You have won my challenge.” 

“At least it wasn’t a guild that won. I don’t think we’ve heard the end of it.” Mumbo whispers, sitting back. Grian winces, pulling his arm against the sling it’s in, to which Etho swats him to keep it still. 

“Stress is next!” Iskall grins, exciting to see his friend perform. Stress chose this event herself, and no one dared question her claim. And as she stands among the other wizards, she’s easily the most out of place. Surrounded by large men and mages of strength and muscle, many hardly wearing much more than whatever their guild deems necessary and often glistening in oil, Stress crosses her legs and pats the warm material of her ice blue dress. She casts a quick spell, and her short brown hair caresses pale cheeks as an icy wind cools her down. Iskall leans back, shaking his head. “She’s going to freaking crush this.” 

And crush it she does. No one, not even the audience is prepared to watch the short, dainty ice wizard lift more weight than any oiled, burly man around her. Her magic, and her own strength, easily lifts the shelled form of a tarasque, a hydra, and a baku in one wall of ice. Not just lift the still living creatures, but doing so with enough care that each beast is left unharmed and even cradled by the ice rink beneath their feet. As soon as the creatures are back on their feet, Stress is immediately cooing- ignoring her gold medal in lieu of praising the hydra’s many heads for all their work helping her win. 

Truly a strange mage for the strength event. 

__________________________

“Are you sure they’re not here just to compete? You really think they’re here to...stop him?” A black cloaked figure whispers, eyes following the ice wizard as she skips to her friends. From the nosebleed section, the brothers can hardly see each individual person. But the hermits are easy enough to pick out. They stand out, unlike the other guilds. Each person with a unique outfit, unique features. 

“If I know my brother, he can never take anything sitting down.” Red fabric moves as the white haired wizard talks, sharp eyes never leaving their target. A mask like that can be seen from a mile away. “And his friends aren’t much better.” 

“They’re incredible!” The third figure, clad in a white cloak to hide his mop of rainbow hair, stands to get a better look. His friend grabs him by the arm and pulls his rear back to his seat. “These people are the true heroes we nee-”

“Can’t you be quiet for a minute, loudmouth?” His brother seethes, glancing at their contact. They’ve only just met him today, despite being in contact for much longer. 

“I don’t know if I’d call them ‘heroes’, but they’re all Lairyon has.” The contact pulls his cloak’s mask up over his nose, tugging on the long white hairs stuck in between. 

“A ragtag team of criminals, rejects, and outcasts is the only hope for Lairyon. Great.” The black cloaked brother huffs, setting his head on a propped up hand. 

“How much different is that from us- or, I mean, the crown and his advisor?” The white robe lowers his voice after his brother slaps his arm, sharp gaze daring for him to try that again. “Lairyon needs light to return, and I think these hermits are exactly what we need.” 

“I hope you’re right, your majesty.” The contact tugs on his long white ponytail. “They’ll need more help if they expect to survive. Which is why I came to you.” 

“Well, let’s get started?” The three stand up, disappearing amongst the crowd. There’s a few people they’ve seen on the field who can help the hermits. Help from afar- as Ex always does.

#light of lairyon #lol #wizard hermits #wizard au #hermitcraft #hermitblr #hermitcraft au #hermitcraft fanfic #wizard iskall #wizard mumbo #wizard grian #wizard etho #wizard joe #wizard stres #wizard Ex #iskall #iskall85 #mumbo jumbo #grian #grianmc #ethoslab #joehills #evil xisuma #stressmonster #ssundee #writing

[forever-rogue]

Unintended Consequences - Part 9

Summary: Y/N and Ben had been best friends since the day six year old Y/N dropped her ice cream in front of Ben and he had offered her his. The rest is history. Until Ben went to Hollywood and disappeared for five years, before suddenly waltzing back into Y/N’s life with one simple request.

A/N: Hehehe, ya girl is back at it again. I love how passionate you guys get over this story! Please enjoy! Taglists are open! xx

PS - have fun kids!

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader

Word Count:  5k

Warnings: mentions of death;

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

Y/N let out a small yawn as she stretched her arms over her head, enjoying the warm feeling running through her bones. The slight popping feeling in her joints was so pleasurable as she rolled over and felt the early morning sunlight that was streaming in through the curtains hit her face. It was a perfect, quiet morning in Los Angeles as the city bustled around them but their small space was peaceful and still. The only sign of life in the room were their warm, entwined bodies, limbs heavy with the remnants of sleep.

Joe was still fast asleep, the lightest of snores emanating from his mouth, a content expression on his face. She reached over and gently touched the light bit of stubble that covered his face, giggling at the light scratching sensation under her fingertips. She studied his features intently, letting a long breath. It almost wasn't fair how good he managed to look, even with his auburn locks all mussed up, mouth slightly agape in only an old shirt and boxers.

"Are you just going to keep staring at me, sugar?" his voice was still thick with sleep as he reached over and grabbed her hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing her palm gently. She hadn't realized he'd been awake and it caused an embarrassed chuckle to flow from her lips. He opened his eyes slowly, hazel orbs still bleary with sleep, "if you want to admire the art, it's going to cost you."

“Did you just go there?” she burst into a bit of laughter at his next level dad joke, as he just gloated, clearly very proud of himself. He really was the biggest dork sometimes. 

“It’s a good joke!” he insisted as she raised her eyebrows at him; they rose so high they almost disappeared into her hairline.

"I'm glad you think so highly of yourself," she let off a small laugh, bringing a smile to his face; it was already one of his favorite sounds in the world. She scooted closer to him, and he instinctively wrapped an arm around her waist, his fingers tracing over the little bits of exposed skin, "tell me, how much does the art cost?"

"A few kisses," he said matter of factly, and she dramatically rolled her eyes, "and a maybe a little more since we're going to be apart for so long."

She decided to oblige him, as if there was even the minute possibility that she wouldn’t, and kissed him slowly, moving in perfect rhythm with him. Even in the mornings he was always tasted a bit sweet, almost like he was constantly meant to be kissing her. After a few moments, she pulled back and stilled.

"I’ll miss you, you know," she admitted with a small sigh. She had tried to push that little fact to back of her mind, but as the day to leave grew closer and closer it had become inevitable. He cut her off with a few more lazy, soft kisses, leaving his lips near hers, "I'm going to miss you. Probably like crazy."

"It'll only be a few weeks till I'm there," he reminded her, but in reality it didn't help alleviate the situation. Joe was hanging back in LA for a bit longer, working on a project while she and Ben took off for New York, "besides, when you're there you can sleep in my bed. It'll be almost like I'm with you."

"I can't do that," she said meekly, sneaking in a few more soft kisses, "it'll be a little suspicious if we get to your house, and I just make myself at home and take over your bedroom, don't you think? Besides, Ben and I’ve reached a point to where we're not yelling at each other every day. I'll take that for now. Don’t need him to completely flip out about finding out about us.”

"To be fair - you barely talk at all..." he interrupted her, a mischievous smirk creeping onto his face. He wasn’t wrong; the two of them had remained cordial, but made it a strict, unspoken rule that no more words needed to be exchanged than necessary. It felt odd when Ben held her hand or kissed her, especially if she had recently been with Joe. Ben still didn’t know; at least she thought he didn’t as he had keep all but silent about what he had seen in the living room, “I want to tell him about us, Y/N....he’s going to find out eventually. I hate keeping secrets from him.”

“Joe-”

“Regardless of what’s happened, he’s still our friend,” he sighed lightly, “and he’s trying, I can see he is. I don’t want him to find out in another way besides us telling me. It might upset him now, but it’ll be better in the long run.”

“Joe,” she sighed and rubbed at her brow, not in the mood to discuss Ben any further. Where things were currently were more than fine with her. It wasn’t by any means the easiest relationship, but at least the lingering dirty looks and backhanded comments were gone. A little tension seemed like nothing compared to that, “soon, I promise. Right now, just tell me more about you, your room, everything. I want to know every little facet of who you are.”

"You know, if you're careful enough...you can always just sneak into my room when he's asleep," Joe suggested in a vain attempt to be helpful. If he was being honest, the thought of her alone in his bed gave him all sorts of wild thoughts, "think of it as a daring adventure."

"You're too much, you know that?" she laughed as she rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, feeling the vibrations in his chest as he chuckled, "I'll be able to finally snoop on you...see what secrets you're hiding from me."

"Unfortunately, you'll find I'm just as boring as I actually seem," he insisted with a small shrug. He always insisted that he wasn’t that excited and he didn’t see why anyone would spend the time on him, but Y/N always insisted just as fervently that he was incredible. He downplayed himself way too much; he had so much to offer but he seemed to refuse to see it for whatever reason, “no skeletons in the closet, no weird things hidden under the bed. Pretty much nothing odd at all. Unless you count the dinosaur figurines I have weird. But don’t worry, there’s only three of them.”

“Seriously?” she asked a smile spread across her face. He didn’t know if she was shocked in a positive or negative way, so he just chanced a soft nod, burrowing his face further into the soft, plush pillow. She threw back the covers and pulled him into her arms, smothering him in soft kisses as she laid on top of him.

“What?!” he asked in a surprised tone, holding her tightly against his own soft, warm body, “I didn’t realize a grown man with plastic figurines was such a turn on.”

“It’s you, you’re the turn on, you big dork,” she whispered as she rested her head on his chest, “you’re wonderful, Joe, I don’t know why you can’t see how lovely you are.”

“I’m just me-”

“Exactly,” she interrupted him, “that’s what makes you so special. God, I wish you were coming with us now.”

“Two weeks, sugar,” he said as he tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. She hummed softly, closing hers eyes and relishing in his soft touches, “we can make it that long.”

“I’ll try,” she promised, “can I ask you for a favor?“

“Anything.”

“Give me something to remember you by,” she teased quietly, kissing the bit of his exposed chest, letting her lips linger on his warm flesh, “I don’t want to forget a single thing about you.”

Ben made it a point to stare at his phone while the taxi driver loaded their bags into the car. It was the middle of the warm, breezy afternoon, and they were in the midst of getting ready to go to the airport to make their departure. Y/N had spent the morning lazing about in bed with Joe, who, luckily, had helped her with packing the night before. 

It was a harmless thing for friends to help one another with, so Ben hadn’t commented on anything. But he, naturally, overheard Joe’s teasing about all the pretty lace panties and bras Y/N had. Her face had been beet red as she snatched it out of his hands and packed it away quickly.

But that had been the day before and reality had come crashing down hard as she got up in the morning, reluctant to leave and coziness warmness of Joe’s bed. He had an arm slung around her, subconsciously holding onto her, which make things just that much harder. The apartment had been all but silent as the three of them moved about and prepared for their departure.

It had come so much sooner then she had expected, and part of her was ready to go, and part of her wanted to cling onto LA and everything California had to offer. But the chance to explore New York with Joe was also just as thrilling; she couldn’t wait to be by his side again and have him show her all of his haunts.

“All ready?” she asked Ben quietly, not wanting to interrupt him too much, or cause him to feel the need to start a row.

“Yes,” he responded and stuffed his phone into the back pocket of his jeans. He took the last bag from her hand, in a somewhat delicate fashion, almost as though he didn’t want to touch her skin, as if he was ice and she was fire and she would just melt him. She chanced a small smile at him, which for whatever reason, he returned, “well, I guess it’s time then.”

“Onto the next,” she agreed. Ben paused with his hand on the cab’s door, casting a glance at her as she lingered by the door of the lavish apartment building. His grip tightened as he realized what she was waiting for. Joe had made it a point not to come down and bade them farewell, in order to prevent any further awkward interaction. The relationship between the two men had been stunted, a sort of tense tango that suggested both of them knew about the other, but neither of them ever brought it up.

Joe hadn’t wanted to cause Ben any grief by flat out telling him that he and Y/N had start seeing each other, but he knew he should have. There was a little nagging feeling in his stomach that never seemed to go away, and only increased when Ben was around. Joe had a pretty good feeling that Ben knew, he wasn’t an idiot after all.

Ben had much more knowledge of their comings and goings than he let on. There had been several nights when he’d pass by either of their bedrooms and heard them speaking and giggling in hushed tones. But he suppressed his feelings; it was easier to try and ignore them, although they slowly ate away at him, rather than confront them. For now anyways - he had decided to let everything play out organically at the moment.

He wouldn’t intentionally do anything to create a distance between them, but if he got the chance to win her back over, well, he wouldn’t hesitate to do that either. He knew that deep down, but he was slowly trying to ignore it; he didn’t want to fight...just to be happy.

Joe stood inside the lobby of the building, watching the two of them intently. Y/N raised her hand and give him the slightest of waves, a sad little smile on her face. Two weeks she reminded herself two weeks.

Joe lifted his own hand and returned the gesture, only stopping when he saw the look Ben was giving him, somewhere between discontent and indifference. It was almost impossible to read.

“Come on, we’ve got to go, Y/N,” Ben said softly as he beckoned for her to get into the cab. Lowering her hand she gave Joe one last glance before getting into the seat, “alright then?”

“Just fine,” she replied as she chewed on her bottom lip. Ben made a small sound of acknowledgement before he got into the the other side. He focused his attention outside, watching the passing scenery pass by as they headed to LAX. Y/N pulled out her phone and focused her attention on scrolling through her Instagram timeline, not really focusing on thing or another.

As the cab started to drive away, a text popped up. She was glad she had remembered to silence her phone, but a grin appeared on her face as Joe’s name popped up.

Is it too soon to say I miss you already? Cause I miss you already.

Two weeks, she replied, don’t worry. I’ll be taking over your bed soon enough. And I’ll even take good care of your dinosaurs. Promise.

“What?” Ben asked with an amused smirk as he watched Y/N thoughtfully chew her pizza. She had made a big deal of carefully inspecting all the toppings and picking a piece apart before finally eating it. Ben had been to the small pizzeria several times, with both Joe and Gwil, and had just ordered his usual for the two of them, figuring she would like it as well. She shook her head as she continued to chew,  “you don’t like it?”

“I do,” she proclaimed as she swallowed the large piece she had had in her mouth, “it’s delicious. It might even be better than the stuff in LA. It’s just so different. Americans are a bit odd, don’t you think? So many types of pizza, it’s almost excessive!”

“But almost all of it is delicious,” he countered, taking a large bite of his own slice. His heart ached a little bit at the familiarity of the situation; they had been in almost this exact position so many times in the past. He used to adore how Y/N went off on random tangents, how passionate she got over almost everything in her life. She never did things half-hearted that was for sure, “even you have to admit that.”

“Fair enough,” she grinned as she finished the last bite, scooping the little bits that had fallen onto her plate up, “I might like New York a little better so far. LA was great, but everything was too healthy. Have they even heard of sugar over there?”

Ben snorted into his glass, trying his best not to choke on the soda, as he howled with laughter. It was moments like this that warmed his heart, moments were it didn’t matter that who he was, or who she was. Simple times were things were effortless and tender. He had missed them so much more than he had ever wanted to admit; no one had come close to making him feel like she had while during their years apart. It hadn’t been really been until he had met Joe, Gwil, and Rami that he started to feel like himself again.

“Jesus, Ben, calm down over there,” she joked as she passed him a napkin. He gratefully took it from her, his fingers gently grazing over hers, causing a spark to jolt his bones as he quickly pulled back from. Nope he told himself, this is what I’m trying to avoid. Y/N noticed it too, making it a point to stare anywhere but at his face, knowing she’d be done for otherwise. Her heart was thumping erratically as she willed herself to calm down, reminding herself that she didn’t want him. She was just barely friends with him...was the lie she repeated to herself.

“Sorry,” he said, a general statement, not really sure what he was sorry for, but they both kind of knew. She just shook her head at him, an apologetic look on her features. Physical contact with him was something she had been trying to avoid; no matter how much she tried to deny it, the lingering little feeling still sat within her. When the contact was out in public and forced it wasn’t the same, that was all acting, purely for show. This was much more intimate and personal, “can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” she answered almost automatically, wondering what on earth he could be referring to. These types of questions made her more nervous than anything else.

“Are you happy?” the question caught her out of the blue and she inhaled sharply as she turned her eyes to look at his own. They were so bright and clear, almost revealing all of his secrets to her.

“Here? In New York?” she responded lamely, knowing full well that wasn’t what he was referring to. They had been there by themselves for the past week, exploring the city and going to all sorts of events. Joe’s place had been like a home away from home, so calm and tranquil, every aspect of it reminding her of him in some way.

Especially his bed; it was large and soft, and despite the recently washed sheets, his scent lingered all over them. Once she had made Ben had been asleep, she had taking to stealing away and sleeping in his bed by herself. Some nights, she’d hold one of the pillows to her chest, clutching it tightly and wishing it was him. It wasn’t him though and she was still more than ready to see him again.

“No,” he interrupted her train of thought, pulling her back into reality, “I mean in general. Are you happy here and now?”

It took her a moment to think of how to phrase it, but she knew she was. Things had been happening so unlike she had ever imagined, but it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, right now things were okay, very okay, “I’m happy, Benny. I’m very happy right now.”

“Good,” he answered, the fact that she had called him Benny was not lost on him. She didn’t seemed to have noticed her slip up before focusing on grabbing another slice of the pizza. He was about to open his mouth to say something else, but decided against it, instead opting to gaze out the window at the brightly lit evening, where rain was drizzling ever so lightly.

Y/N clutched the steaming mug of hot chocolate tightly between her hands as she sat in the small backyard of Joe’s house. She had thought about lighting the small fire pit, but had determined that there was just too much of a drizzle to bother. Instead she sat under the large outdoor umbrella, wearing one of Joe’s sweaters as she watched the glittering nighttime sky. She had been lost deep in her own thoughts since earlier that evening when Ben had asked her if she was happy.

“Mind if I join you?” Ben asked in a tender tone as he stepped into the backyard, quietly sliding the door shut. She turned to him and shook her head, pointing at the chair next to her. He had a blanket around his shoulders and plopped down next to her, rubbing his tired eyes, “what are you doing out here? It’s after midnight.”

“Couldn’t sleep. Insomnia strikes again,” she admitted as she offered him the mug. He politely declined and followed her eye line, trying to figure out what exactly she was staring at, seeing if there were any identifiable constellations, “besides, it’s a beautiful evening, and I’ve had a lot on my mind today. I feel like there’s always a lot on my mind these days.”

“And it’s your favorite weather too,” he stated matter of factly, remembering all the nights they had snuck out and climbed to the roof of their houses to go and watch the night sky, often not caring if they were getting soaking wet from the English rains, “I remember.”

“Always has been and always will be,” she agreed, pulling her knees up to her chest, and resting her chin on top of them.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked after a few quiet moments. For once the silence that flowed forth between the two of them wasn’t tense or awkward. It was comfortable much as it always should have been, “if you don’t mind my asking...”

“I don’t mind,” she reassured him, glancing at him for just a moment, “my mum’s been on my mind lately. It’s been almost three years since she’s been gone. Next week will make it three.“

“Oh,” it was a soft sound that escaped his lips, “I-I didn’t know.”

“How could you have?” she shrugged lightly, no venom or ill will behind her words, “it’s okay. I’ve leaned to let it go. It still sucks sometimes, you know? There are times I forget and I really want to tell her something, and I’ll get halfway through the process of calling when I realize. I don’t know if that’ll ever change, but it does get easier over time. I know it sounds silly, and you must think I’m a complete loon, but sometimes I go and visit her just to talk. I’m always met with silence, obviously, but it feels like she’s there sometimes, and it’s a way to get things off my chest.”

“I don’t think that’s silly at all,” he reassured her. It pained him a little bit to think about how hard this must have been for her. Her mother had been like a second mother to him when they were growing up and he hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye. He should have...could have, if he hadn’t all but excommunicated them from his life, “I like to think that the people we love the most ever truly leave us. Sounds like a bit of an ironic statement coming from me, doesn’t it? Not sure I have much room to talk..”

“You said it, not me,” she held up her hands in defense, but they shared a small laugh. It was nice to experience this instead of just screaming at each other, “I’m not going to hold it over you anymore, Ben. It won’t change what happened. I wish you had been there, but you weren’t and that’s that. It’s done. Us fighting over it is never going to get anything accomplished, and frankly I don’t have the strength or energy for it anymore. Being petty isn’t in my nature these days, I’m afraid.”

“R-really?” he asked timidly.

“Really,” she promised as she closed her eyes, realizing they were slowly taking a step in the right direction. The part of her that had held onto the anger was slowly dissipating, and realized it wasn’t healthy for her to harbor those feelings forever.

“Can I ask...w-what exactly...happened? To your mum?” her words had sent a sort of relief rushing through his bones. This was the only thing he had wanted all along, “she was so good to me...I wish I could have said goodbye.”

“Hey, let’s not beat ourselves up about anything anymore. It was cancer though,” she answered, “very swift moving lung cancer that spread throughout her body before they even had a chance to do anything. That woman didn’t smoke a day in her life, and that was her downfall. It’s almost cruel, you know? But she didn’t suffer long. It was a quick demise, if that makes it any better. You know...there were days I wished it were me. How unfair that such a kind woman be taken from the world, and a mess like myself left behind.”

“You’re not a mess, Y/N. You deserve to be here, you have a reason for being here,” he insisted, a pang in his chest at the idea that she had ever felt like this, “you are an amazing person and have so much to offer, even if you don’t think so. Your mum would never want you to think like that.”

“I know, I know,” she gave in with small smile, “but I was in a very dark place, and it was hard to get out of it. It felt like I was clawing my way out of hell half the time. But I did, and I’m still here, living and breathing despite all of it.”

“I should have been there-”

“You wouldn’t have been able to do anything,” she said after a few quiet moments, feeling like a small weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. She could sense that this was a sense in the right direction. Even if she was still mad or annoyed, a sense of forgiveness was worth so much more, “no amount of money or anything in the world would have saved her.”

“But I could have…something,” he insisted, suddenly finding the fraying edge of the blanket suddenly extremely interesting.

“Ben,” she pressed up against him lightly, “stop. It’s alright. Honestly, I want to be annoyed or even mad, but why? It’s not going to make anything better or different. I know if you knew…”

“I would have been there in a heartbeat,” he finished for her.

“I know...so don’t stress, Ben,” she reached over and put her hand on his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. His heart almost stopped at the touch, and it took everything within him to keep from making a soft, small, whimpering sound, “promise me we’ll both let it go?”

“Pinky,” he promised her, sticking out his finger and waiting with bated breath to see if she would take it. She almost laughed at the gesture, something so ingrained in from their childhood -  the familiarity of it almost choked her up. She bit the inside of her cheek for a moment before pulling her sleeve back and hooking her finger around his.

“Pinky,” she said quietly, reluctantly letting go after a few moments. A quiet string of unspoken words hung in the air as she studied him for a few moments. His golden locks glinted in the pale moonlight, his eyes soft as could be, soft skin pale. She wasn’t supposed to be having feelings for him like this anymore. He wasn’t supposed to make her heart race and cause her to feel warm tingles all over. It wasn’t supposed to him anymore.

“Y/N,” he said quietly, that old tone had reserved specifically for her coming through. He somehow had the ability make his low, soft voice very sweet ad gentle. She only ever heard it when he spoke to her. No one else, not even the other girls he had dated in the past ever got to hear this voice. She wished he hadn’t used it; it was her weakness, her downfall every time, even if he had zero clue.

She angled her body so she was facing him, setting the half empty mug onto the table. Her breath was coming out in rapid spurts as they looked at each other silently. Every fiber of her being that had any sense left told her to turn away and head into the house. They could feel what was coming; it was like the universe had set a plan in motion and it was all slowly playing out. It set a buzzing in their bones, that almost drew them together like an unspoken force.

But she wasn’t ready to listen to that little bit of sense that was left in her. No, this was a matter of the heart, not the brain. Suppressing the feelings she still felt lying dormant within her only worked for so long, and so well. She had to know, she had to know if that magic feeling was there. She just had to know.

Ben tentatively reached over and touched her face, running his fingertips against her cheek, before stopping at her jaw. She closed her eyes and leaned in a closer to where she could feel his breath fanning across her face.

Pull back, pull back her mind screamed at her, don’t do this, you’ll regret it.

But she didn’t. She let Ben pull her into his lap, covering her with the big, soft blanket, as his lips met hers. They were still soft, so soft, and felt perfect against hers. They felt like they were meant to be together forever.

A small whimper escaped her lips when they broke apart after what seemed like an eternity. He put his hands on either side of her face and pressed a few more soft kisses to her lips and cheeks, before stopping and resting his forehead against hers.

“Ben,” her voice was barely audible as she rested her forehead against his, hands still resting on his shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” he responded, letting out a shaky breath, “for everything.”

“What?!”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated and this time she knew he was being honest, “I’m sorry for leaving you and forcing you to go through everything on your own. It was meant to be us together, just like I always promised you.”

“I’m so sorry for everything.“

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