#third person pov

[enigmaticexplorer]

Writing Advice: Third Person Point of View - The Problem with Head-Hopping

A personal pet peeve in fanfic—and even some published books, unfortunately—is an author head-hopping.

I understand that not everyone learned about writing point of view in primary school, and many fanfic writers are new to writing and might not even realize they're writing head-hopping.

So, this post is an educational means for those who are interested in learning how to improve their writing.

I'm going to give a quick overview of point of view, a breakdown of third person point of view, and how to spot head-hopping in your writing.

What Is Point of View?

Point of view (POV) is the perspective (voice) from which a story is narrated.

There are three POVs.

First person

Second person

Third person

Third Person: Limited vs. Omniscient

In third person POV, the author is narrating the story through third-person pronouns (she, he, they).

Third person POV is subdivided into two categories: third person limited and third person omniscient.

Third Person Limited

In third person limited, the narrator is an external observer who knows the thoughts and feelings of ONE character at a time.

Here's an example from R.F. Kuang's, The Poppy War, page 341:

The Cike were stretched to their limit, especially Rin. Each moment not spent on an operation was spent on patrol. And when she was off duty, she trained with Altan.

Note that this paragraph—the entire book, actually—is from Rin's POV. We have access to Rin's feelings, thoughts, and observations throughout the book, while also seeing how other characters are acting.

But we are only in Rin's head. We do not have access to the thoughts and feelings of other characters. This is third person limited POV.

Third Person Omniscient

In third person omniscient, the narrator is an all-knowing observer who has access to the thoughts, feelings, and experiences of ALL characters in the story.

Here's an example from Jane Austen's, Pride and Prejudice, page 104:

As they drove to Mr. Gardiner’s door, Jane was at a drawing-room window watching their arrival; when they entered the passage she was there to welcome them, and Elizabeth, looking earnestly in her face, was pleased to see it healthful and lovely as ever.

Notice how we have access to both Jane and Elizabeth's 1) physical locations, and 2) thoughts. Even though Elizabeth is in a carriage and Jane is inside a house, the narrator is all-knowing and can narrate both of them at the same time.

The problem I see from many fanfic writers: they attempt to write in third person omniscient when they're actually writing shoddy third person limited, constantly switching between the POVs of multiple characters.

This is called head-hopping.

Head-Hopping vs. Omniscient

Head-hopping is when an author shifts between the POVs of multiple characters without a scene break. Meaning, the author is inside Character A's head but abruptly—and randomly—shares the thoughts, feelings, and/or observations of Character B.

Here's an example:

Kathy arrived at the cafe in hopes of showing Brittany her completed sweater. It was the first time she had knitted and she was eager to share her hard work with her best friend. Brittany took one look at the sweater and cringed. She hated it, but she didn't want to hurt Kathy's feelings. She didn't know what to say.

In this example, we are inside both Kathy and Brittany's heads. Both characters have distinctive voices, and because of this, the narration of the story is inconsistent.

It's jarring to read, and pulls you out of the story.

Here's the same example written through omniscient POV:

Kathy arrived at the cafe with the intent to show Brittany her completed sweater. After hours of hard work, the opinion of her best friend was important. At Kathy's approach, Brittany observed the sweater in her friend's hand and wrinkled her nose. The sweater was hideous.

In this example, we are inside the head of the narrator. The narrator is telling the story through its voice, rather than the individual voices of Kathy and Brittany.

Remember: Omniscient means the reader is inside the NARRATOR's head, not the characters'.

The Scene Break to Denote POV Switch

Back to my definition of head-hopping: Head-hopping occurs when a writer suddenly switches POV without a scene break.

Like the first example of Kathy and Brittany—there is no scene break between their thoughts. If the author wanted to write from both Kathy and Brittany's perspective, the author would have to include a physical break to alert the reader to a switch in POV. See below:

Kathy arrived at the cafe in hopes of showing Brittany her completed sweater. It was the first time she had knitted and she was eager to share her hard work with her best friend. ~~~~~~~~~~ Brittany took one look at the sweater and cringed. She hated it, but she didn't want to hurt Kathy's feelings. She didn't know what to say.

The squiggly lines demonstrate a switch in POV, and the scene would then continue in Brittany's POV. [Please note that a single paragraph space (as seen in the first example of Kathy and Brittany) is not a scene break. It is a paragraph break, and therefore cannot be used to demonstrate a switch in POV.]

You can write multiple POVS throughout a story. These will all be in third person limited POVs.

For example, each chapter in Rick Riordan's Heroes of Olympus series is dedicated to ONE character. Throughout that chapter, the reader is inside the head—reading the thoughts, feelings, and observations—of that singular character.

Individual chapters can also have multiple POVs (again, these are third person limited POVs). These are denoted by a divider or additional paragraph space.

For example, Timothy Zahn's Thrawn switches between the POVs of multiple characters in each chapter. The switch between his characters' POV is shown by an additional paragraph space.

Why Should You Care about Head-Hopping?

If writing head-hopping makes you happy, then keep at it. It's fanfic, and most readers are so desperate for content they don't care.

But, if you're interested in improving your writing, here are a few reasons why head-hopping is problematic:

It's jarring to the reader, and takes them out of the story. Frequent head-hopping can confuse readers as they struggle to keep track of whose perspective they are currently experiencing. It disrupts the flow of the narrative and can make it challenging for readers to form a strong connection with any one character.

It makes it harder for readers to truly immerse themselves in your story. Consistent use of a single POV allows readers to immerse themselves in the story's world through the eyes of a specific character. Head-hopping disrupts this immersion by constantly pulling readers out of one character's perspective and into another's.

It hinders character development. When the narrative constantly shifts between characters, there may not be enough time or focus on any one character's growth and development.

It takes away the emotional impact of the scene. Head-hopping can prevent readers from fully empathizing with or understanding any particular character's emotions, motivations, and inner conflicts.

Even well-established authors struggle to write omniscient without head-hopping. It's a nuanced subject that can be confusing to understand and difficult to overcome.

Again, this post is simply to inform writers about third person point of view and the subtle differences between its subdivisions. It’s not an attack on fanfic writers.

#writing advice #writing tips #writing fanfic #point of view #third person pov #omniscient pov #head-hopping #limited pov

[derekmorgansgirl]

Derek Morgan x Chubby BAU!Reader

I absolutely hate that there is not enough out there about my literal comfort and joy, Derek Morgan, so I'm here to write what I wish I could read about him.

This is a oneshot following Y/n and Derek's angsty relationship over time. He has always flirted with her, but she was insecure and assumed he was joking around, so she always brushed him off. One day, she had enough and snapped at him, resulting in a very heated, very public argument.

Y/n's stomach dropped to her butt when she stepped through the elevator doors to the wide open bullpen of the BAU. It was her first day working as their new media liaison after their old one had switched positions. She honestly had little clue what she was supposed to be doing that day except for meeting her new boss, Aaron Hotchner.

She picked her jaw up off the floor and blinked her wide-eyed look away as she began to scan the room for Hotchner's office. Although, apparently, her confused figure drew some attention because two people approached her, startling her out of her concentration.

Upon first impression, she noticed the difference between the two people. One brown skinned man, tall, muscular, intimidating. And the other, a much shorter white woman, blonde, colorful, and friendly. The man, Y/n could see as an agent of the FBI. The woman, however, looked like an elementary teacher.

"Hey, there," the man said, "what's a pretty little lady like you doin' round here?" he said with a flirtatious grin.

Before I could even think of a reply, the woman playfully rolled her eyes before turning to me and speaking, "Don't mind him. He's well aware of his good looks and likes to use them for nefarious intentions," she glared at him. "I'm Penelope Garcia, the most beautiful, most genius technical analysist. And he's-"

"Really forward," Y/n says with an awkward laugh.

"Oh, it's Derek Morgan, actually. But you," he punctuates with a glance up and down her body, "can call me Chocolate Thunder."

"Yeah, that most definitely will not be happening, Derek Morgan."

Derek feigns a disappointed sigh before asking, "No, really, though. What are you doin' here? Can we help you with anything?"

They both look at her expectantly, eyebrows raised and fully attentive. "Oh, um, I'm supposed to be finding Aaron Hotchner's office," Y/n replies, but it sounds more like a question. "We had a meeting for," her eyes widen with a glance at her watch "7 minutes ago! Oh, God!"

"Oh, dear! Come with me, sweetheart, I'll take you there! And don't you even worry I will take full accountability of the delay and explain what happened," gushed Penelope while dragging you through the bullpen, Y/n's hand in hers.

Still shocked from the previous interaction, Y/n makes no effort to reply to her. It doesnt go unnoticed, however, because Penelope turns around to look at her for a second before continuing the walk.

"I'm, once again, sorry for Morgan. He goes a little overboard with his flirtations sometimes. I would certainly know," she giggles out. "You just have to learn not to take him seriously, everything he says is out of kindness. He really is a good man, you know-"

"Garcia?" a deep voice cuts her off.

"Hotch! Sir, I am so, so sorry. She looked so lost and confused, so Morgan and I were greeting her, and then she told us she was late for a meeting with you, so I rushed her over, and I'm so terribly sorry, this is on me! But she's here now, this is- Oh, I didn't catch your name," Penelope manages to spit out in one breath while the tall man stands there, hands in his pockets, a slightly amused look on his face.

"It's okay, Garcia. This is Y/n Y/l/n, our new media liaison. Now please excuse us, as you said, we have a meeting," he says calmly.

"Ok!" And with that, she's already turning around and scurrying away.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Aaron Hotcher, unit chief of the BAU. Come on in."

/// One month later ///

After that first meeting, especially what Garcia had said about him, Y/n had just assumed that Derek was joking around with her. She had seen him cozying up to plenty of other women. Prettier women.

But that didn't stop him from calling you such ridiculous, clearly mocking nicknames.

"Hey, baby doll. Maybe after you finish up those files, I can give you a ride home," Derek tells her with a wink.

"Um, no. I have a lot to finish and to be honest, I dont- I dont really think thats a good idea," Y/n says before clearing her throat.

"Aww, why not? You not that into me, pumpkin?" Derek leaned against her desk. And that's when it hit her. Of course. He was only doing this to make fun of her. She'd known that from the start. But she didn't know why until he had said it. It was because of her appearance, she told herself, short and round. Like a pumpkin.

The logical side of her knew it was likely not true, but her insecurities got the best of her. She had always been self conscious about her size, and it was easier to tell herself that he was just like everybody else. I mean, a handsome, fit man like him? No wonder he was messing with her.

"No, not really," Y/n said with a fake smile. "You can go now, Morgan."

///

Y/n had been growing closer to the team, especially Reid. They had a lot of similar interests. They both liked reading, nerdy TV shows, and most importantly they got along really well.

The other team members had taken notice of this, of course. But Derek, most especially. Y/n couldn't figure out why, but it seemed that he couldn't pry his eyes away whenever he saw Y/n and Spencer together.

Y/n and Spencer had been making their coffee side by side while chuckling and conversing about last night's episode of Doctor Who. It was something that Spencer admitted he got mocked for by multiple people, but she didn't understand why. So it became their thing. A couple nights a week, Y/n would go to Spencer's apartment and watch a few episodes with him.

Derek approached the two and grabbed a packet of sugar to pour into his own steaming mug. "What're you two nerds talking about, huh?" He said with a false smirk.

"Oh, um, we were just talking about last night," Spencer stuttered out as Derek had startled him when he snuck up behind him.

"Oh," Derek quirked an eyebrow, "last night, huh? You making a play on sweet pumpkin here?"

Spencer shook his head, embarrassed, "No! We were watching Doctor Who together."

"Huh," Derek rubbed his tongue along the inside of his cheek, "well, maybe I can take you home then tonight, Y/n, it only seems fair," he says as his smirk reappears.

"Spence and I actually had plans tonight, and he's better company than you, but thank you," Y/n replies rather harshly, causing both Derek and Spencer's faces to break into a startled reaction.

"Oh, you call watching your geeky little show in your pajamas while stuffing your face with snacks plans?" He jokingly said, but you took it as a joke that you were the butt of.

"Really? I mean, I already suspected that was why you're always mocking me, but I didn't expect you to outright and say it," Y/n crossed her arms as an attempt to shield her body.

"Whoa, what?" Derek said, suddenly conscious of everyone's eyes watching the scene. "What are you talking abou-"

"Seriously?! Are you gonna pretend to be stupid, too. You've been messing with me since the day we met, and don't act like you weren't aware of it," she slans her mug down onto the counter, causing Spencer to flinch as he awkwardly shuffles away from the two of you.

"Okay, what in the actual hell are you talking about? I have not been messing with you!" He raises his hand to smooth it across his hair.

"Oh, yes you have! Flirting with me, feigning an interest in me when you know that someone like me will never have for real!"

"Thats not why I- What do you mean someone like you?"

"Someone whos always sitting around in their pajamas stuffing their face with snacks, as you might recall saying. Short and fat, like a pumpkin, right?" Y/n said, suddenly feeling more self-conscious and insecure than she had anytime that stupid nickname slipped from his beautiful lips.

"Oh, my God. No, thats not at all what I meant by that. I- I thought you would have realized by now that-" Derek said, his eyes swelling with tears that she knew he would never let fall in front of the team.

"That what?" Y/n had asked flatly, though her face was still wet from tears.

"Baby doll, I really like you. I have from the start. Thats why I flirted with you! Not to mock you or make you feel bad about yourself. I would never do that. Especially not to someone like you. You're so incredible and I have never met a woman like you. Please let me make this up to you."

"No," she replied with a sob, causing him to momentarily panic. "You didnt do anything wrong. I'm just an idiot," they both laughed as she said that.

"Then, tell me. Do you maybe feel the same? Even after you thought I was ridiculing you for months?"

"Yeah," she whispered before grabbing his tie and pulling him down to crash her lips into his.

His hand immediately found her waist and hers on his face. They laughed while their lips pressed together in an explosive way she could have never imagined. His hand traveled around to her lower back, causing her to let out a gasp, and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth. Y/n let him know that she appreciated it by letting out a quiet moan, when suddenly they were interrupted by someone clearing their throat.

"Okay, cute moment, guys," JJ said with a mocking pout, "There are kids being kidnapped and murdered but sure, sure, take your sweet time making out in the kitchen. Get your asses over here!"

__________________________________

The pumpkin thing was definitely inspired off of a similar situation in the movie Dumplin' but shhh

PLEASE like and comment and reblog if you enjoyed it takes such little time and shows so much support

In the same respect I am open to constructive criticism always so dont he afraid to comment your ideas

LOVE DEREKKK

#derek morgan #derek morgan x reader #third person pov #criminal minds #derek morgan x chubbyreader #criminal minds x reader #derek morgan x y/n #criminal minds x y/n

[dearestaeneas]

Pappappappappap.

Turn left. Up three slats. Forward for a bit. Hang a right.

Ancient drywall dust speckled the ground at his paws, the wood old and dry and at risk for splintering. It was an absolute playground.

The rat did not know this, but the house had been abandoned for years. On the other side of the wall sat dusty furniture and heavily graffitied wallpaper, empty glass bottles, and general litter. The town had debated knocking it over, putting up a parking lot, but decided against it.

There wasn’t even a shopping mall. What would we need the lot for?

So there the house remained. Abandoned and unloved by humans. The teens who hid in the leaf-filled kitchen to smoke after school did not love the house, with its 3 floors and creaky stairs. The college students who appeared each Thanksgiving night to drink and reminisce, pretending they were anything other than babies in the world did not love the house’s study, home to an elderly desk that no one cared enough to look in. The rats and birds and insects and squirrels did not see the need for the money, or the books, or the gold watch that still, despite it all, ticked.

Pappappappappap.

His little feet pounded ever forward, his little round body squeezing effortlessly upwards between wooden planks.

The little rat, with his round body and busy feet, loved the house. He did not care about the once-expensive looking rugs, or the elegant, but stained, crown molding, and he did not care about the ornate door knobs. The little rat, in no particular order, loved these things about the house:

He loved the still-somewhat-silver silverware that sat in a kitchen drawer for the noise it made when he scurried over them (knives make for a particularly pleasant noise, with their flat edges that slide off of one another).

He loved the bookshelves that lined the walls of most of the rooms, because they made for excellent perches to sit on to survey the floor (not to mention that if one of the books could be knocked over, a page could be taken for a nest with incredible ease).

He loved the plushies left behind in one of the smaller upstairs rooms. There was one that looked like him! Although this was not his favorite (that honor belonged to a little brown bear, who lay on his back, leaving his stomach open for the most wonderful of naps), it pleased him. A mirror had been knocked off the bathroom cabinet and shattered, its shards sparkling on the floor. The little rat tended to avoid that room, knowing simply that the little silver points were bad news, and not needing more information than that. However, he had not come to this conclusion without first exploring the room, for the initial shattering had mimicked the pleasant sounds of the silverware, but times a thousand. He was intrigued by the other little round-bodied rat who looked back at him from one of the shards. He hoped he was not lonely in there.

But the little rat did not love the house for what it contained. Its contents were beneficial and made life interesting and wonderful, but he would have loved the house if it were vacant and cold and bare and boring. The little rat loved the house because it was his home, and because his home loved him.

His home protected him from the rain and the snow and the cold and the heat, his home kept him entertained and safe and happy. He needed nothing and wanted for less.

Pappappappappappap.

He wanted to do something nice for his home. But what did he have to offer? He couldn’t fix the leaky roof, or replace a cracked tile, couldn’t put a chair back upright or even change a lightbulb.

Ultimately, he decided the best way he could show his love would simply be to live in his home. His home would understand his limitations, while still seeing that the little rat stayed because he wanted to, and because staying was important to him.

He climbed higher and higher, ascending more and more wooden slats and boards, scurrying from opening to opening, until finally: a break in the wall.

Drywall parted, and the little rat felt himself becoming giddy. He inched forward, his little nose twitching furiously, his little black eyes boggling.

He panted slightly, having climbed all the way up to the second floor. A journey that would take a human seconds had taken him several minutes. He looked out from his little hole in the drywall to see the ancient chandelier at eye level. If he wanted, he could climb all the way to the very top, and look down onto the chandelier. He’d done this several times, and would, inevitably, do it again.

But there was something magical to being eye level with the sparkly glass. He would say nature played a cruel joke on him, leading him to his home and cursing him with his blurred vision, stopping him from admiring the intricate details of the crystal before him, but the simple problem with this is that he didn’t know any better, didn’t know there was a world outside of the outlines and colors he saw. He loved his home for its outlines and colors, for the way that the chandelier caught the light at certain hours of the day. He loved the sparkle of the rainbow that was cast about the entryway.

Nature was not cruel, nature did not punish him or play jokes. It loved him. It loved him the way he loved his home, it protected him and marveled at him and delighted in his joy.

He sat there, squeaking with great contentment as the sun went down and its rays caught the glass, bathing him and the home he loved in color.

#i've been having some crazy writers block lately. here's the beginning of something i originally intended to be a one off #but i fear i'm gonna add to this more later. i'm having fun! i want to write something with a happy ending! for the first time in a while! #writers #writers on tumblr #writer #original writing #original story #third person pov #third person perspective #rats #rat #ratblr #fiction #fiction writing #adventure fiction #adventure #adventure writing #cute #wholesome #short story #short fiction #writeblr

[ethereal-night-fairy]

Apricity

Price x Witch (@ghouljams Oc)

Price comes back into the dress shop only to be presented with a golden opportunity to get Witch to confess her deep dark feelings she may or may not be having of her best friend Rún (you).

This takes place after chapter 6. It's mainly just smut. I'm redoing the 7th Chapter and I decided not to include this as a part of it. But it would be a shame to lose out on smut between Price and Witch so I decided to make it into a separate short side fic. Of course it goes without saying this story was inspired by @ghouljams Fae Au and I feature their Oc Witch in this.

Warnings: MDNI, Smut, degradation, fingering, rough treatment, slight choking, Dom/Sub dynamic, Price being mean and withholding orgasms, dub-con listening? public sexual acts, teasing, Sexual thoughts about my Oc Rún, fluff, lighthearted bickering.

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Words: 3.2k

Price silently walked back into the shop after giving Gaz and Soap an earful. They really must have forgotten how petty he could be if they were going to openly eye his Witch's while he was in the vicinity. He had dragged them out promptly to put an end to the rukus they were causing. He pulled two tethers, sending them off to the swamp to collect a favour for him. From a very slippery Fae that is. They would have a hard time holding him down long enough to retrieve what he was looking for. The smell would cling to them for weeks, an appropriate punishment in his opinion. Let's see if they get any girls when they smell like swamp water.

When he arrived at the changing curtains he noticed both his Witch and Rún had gone to change back into their regular clothes. He couldn't help himself from wanting to help Witch dress or preferably undress. He managed to slip into her changing room while the sales assistant was busy. Her back was turned so she let out a surprised shriek that was muffled by his hand as their eyes met in the mirror. He gave her a devilish smirk as his lips attached themselves to a weak point on her shoulder, kissing his way up her neck towards the shell of her ear causing goosebumps to raise all over her supple flesh. If eyes could scorch the earth hers would have done so. He let out a chuckle as he continued kissing, taking his hands back towards the zipper of her dress as he quickly tried to get her naked. Witch tried to swat his hand away telling him to leave before someone finds him but the words were cut off as Price's hand slipped into the dress cupping her breast and rolling her nipple. He pinched and tormented the the flesh in the best ways, causing her mouth to make an O shape as she let out a shaky breath.

“Price…’, her voice comes out in a breathy whine”

“Hmmm?”, Price continued his naughty exploration of her body slipping another hand in. Cupping both of her round bosomes and pinching her hardening nipple causing her breath to hitch.

“Rún will hear us..”, Witch's breathing was becoming laboured as she covered her mouth to prevent sounds from escaping. Her body was trembling from the pleasure and pain Price was inflicting. She didn't really want him to stop but It wasn't exactly appropriate to be doing this in public.

“Let her… Would probably love to join us”

“Don't be….sil-ly…she was just…joking…”, Price met her eyes again in the mirror as he trialed open mouthed kisses down her neck before finally sinking his teeth in. Her sweat tasted sweet on his tongue, making his teeth dig in deeper. He bit down hard as if he was trying to consume her tender flesh. Witch let out a surprising yelp at the pain but that soon turned into a whimper as she felt his hot tongue gloss over the indents he left. She was struggling to stay focused. Her skin was becoming inflamed with desire as she struggled in his grasp. But it was easy enough to keep her still with his smoke. He continued to torment her by playing with her sensitive nipples even though she kept trying to escape his hold.

“You can be so blind sometimes luvie…One word from you and she would have gladly went on her knees. Imagine that….her sitting all pretty waiting for your permission to eat you out. Her eyes pooling with desire to satisfy you with her tongue.”

Price gently caressed his hand down further reaching into her panties to find them soaked. “Oh you liked it when I said that…naughty girl…I should punish you for thinking about someone else.”

"Wait! No!", Price ignored her pleas as he moved his fingers to her clit rubbing it in controlled circles causing her to shiver and buck against his hands. He started a pattern, he'd rub two circles before giving her clit experimental tabs to see how'd she'd react to the pain. She moaned and whined softly at his cruel treatment of her clit.

“Not fair…you brought up…the image", Price just hummed at her protests while continuing to torment her body. He rubbed his fingers through the slick dripping from her sweet cunt before returning it to Witch's needy clit. He revels in her undoing. Making sure she knows he's enjoying her torment.

"…you're gonna ruin the dress Price”, she huffs out struggling to use words while still trying to half-heartedly escape his hold. He slides the dress down to her ankles as he continues to get drunk off her soft figure. Eyeing every supple curve of her flesh. Making sure to give her breast a generous squeeze, causing her to moan softly.

“I bet she's listenin’ to all your tiny whimpers and whines, probably playin with her clit just like I'm playin’ with yours”, Price felt her buck her hips harder at his words trying to chase her release but he wasn't going to give in so easily. He was having too much fun teasing her.

“We should…stop…before…someone…f-finds us”, her words are spaced out with the circles Price is rubbing. He could practically feel her pussy drooling onto his palm telling him to stuff her full. To make her feel the burn and stretch of his thick fingers. The scent of her sweet nectar that was dripping from her tight little cunt was driving him mad. Her magic vibrated around him signalling how close she was, pushing and pulling. Not completely sure if she wanted to come undone or stop for the sake of decorum.

“Say the word darlin' and I'll stop”, he left her clit to play with her folds causing her to whine softly. He knew she wanted him to finger her cunt but he wasn't going to give it to her until she asked for it. He'll be cruel and keep teasing her until she's practically gagging for it, pleading for it like her life depended on it. He rubbed her juices over her entrance waiting to fill her with his thick fingers. Patiently waiting for her to beg for what she really wanted. To moan like a whore for him, his pretty like slut. His.. completely his. He wanted to lie and say it was the red dress that had riled him up but if he was honest it was also a little jealousy on the relationship Witch had with you. It felt like there were things only you could get away with. He smoothed his tongue over the bite mark he was leaving as she fought herself to give in, to let herself enjoy the release he was offering her. She was practically shaking in his arms from the build up.

“Please…. please…put..your finger..in”, she met his glacier eyes in the mirror. Eyes so full of hot lust it was overwhelming, she wanted to be scorched by his blue flames. To be completely engulfed by his magic and scent. She wanted to become so delirious that she couldn't distinguish where she began and he ended. She wanted to drown in the lust and desire he was exuding, wanted her head pushed under until she found it hard to breathe without him. Before another word came out of her mouth she felt the slight stretch and burn of two of his thick fingers enter her and taking no time to curl and find her sweet spot. Her legs shook and trembled from the shock and pain but she held on best she could. It was a red hot kinda of pain, the kind of pain you wanted you whole body to be engulfed in. Her legs were about to give but Price wrapped his arm around her torso while still continuing to finger her pliant walls. Her walls stretched to accommodate his girthy fingers and their rough treatment of her poor little cunt. Her cum dripped down his hands, soaking his fingers, staining his skin with her mark. He had managed to make her step out of the dress and brush it to the side before her juices could hit the floor. He knew she'd be upset if he got it stained. He brought his lips to her ear, whispering all the dirtiest fantasies he's been having of her recently while simultaneously praising her for taking him so well. For being such a 'good fucking slut' for him.

“You hear your pussy suckin in my fingers luv? Do you hear the mess you're makin? Such a wet cunt…. Go on…make a mess… make a mess on my fingers. Such a good fucking girl doing as your told. There you go.. there you goo...good job sweetheart!", Price contained his degrading praises only to find Witch clench on his fingers like she wanted to snap them.

"There's going to be a puddle on the floor when I'm through with you, I might even make you clean it for being a naughty little whore”, he felt her clench harder every time he'd whisper something to her, especially at his comments about Rún.

He picked up his pace making sure she heard the squelch of her own fluids on his fingers. Making sure she heard all the lewd sounds she was making. Her hand flew to her mouth to stop herself from getting too loud. Though Price thought she was being too quiet already. He'd allow her this mercy since they're in public but, best believe she better not make a habit out of it.

Price felt her getting close, felt her walls spasming so he slowed his fingers to a grind making her whine into her hand as her eyes teared up. “You don't get to come so easily luv”, he let out a cruel chuckle at her pleading eyes.

“Tell me darlin'… does thinking of Rún suckin on your clit you turn you on? Does imagin’ her on her knees for you right now make you wet?”, his lips curve into a smile as he nibbles on her ear. He could practically see her heart pounding through her chest. “You know she can probably hear you, do you think she's playing with herself to the thoughts of you? I bet she is. Should we invite her in to help?”, he felt her clenching really hard at that last sentence.

Price snakes his arm up and around her neck still grinding his fingers into her sweet spot as his fingers wraps around her throat. Forcing her to make eye contact with him through the mirror. Her eyes were dazed and her hand had fallen to her sides. He could see how desperately she was trying to coordinate her thoughts to form a sentence. But her mind had gone blank. She continued grinding her hips back trying to get him to pick up his pace. Earning her a powerful slap to her clip before he returned his fingers inside her sweet drenched pussy without warning. He had to tighten his hold her her neck to get her to stop squirming so much. Which just made her mind turn to mush and her mouth open in a silent whimper. At least she wasn't try to escape anymore.

“Answer me or I won't let you cum”, his hand tightened around her throat, making her gasp and claw at his arms as his fingers set a slow punishing pace again. He gave Witch time to think as he worked her to the edge again. His ears craning for the sounds he was searching for. He doubted Witch could hear your little pants over her pounding heart but he could. It was very subtle but he knew you were listening but couldn't tell if you were playing with yourself. It didn't matter he knew this was affecting you so he continued to whisper dirty things to Witch urging her to answer his questions.

After stopping the third time as she was about to come, Witch who was on the verge of crying finally found her voice.

“We’re just friends….I shouldn't think…about her…like..that…”, she hunched over, her legs giving up. Price spun her around to face him as he held her up against the wall shared with Rúns changing room. He watch her face contort in a mix of pleasure and pain. Her eyes were wet and filling up with tears from being denied release so long. Her muscle were stiff and sore. And all she wanted to do was cum. All the thoughts in her mind was focused on her pleasure and relief. He moved his fingers faster inside her drenched walks making sure you heard all the noise her pussy was making. Every squelch and drip of her juices was made evident by his fingers. It took a moment to slot his mouth against hers while she shook her head and whined at him angrily. He worked his mouth on her soft lips as he devoured her whimpers and moans. Breaths mixing, tongues clashing, it was one of the sloppiest kisses they ever shared. He savoured the taste of her sweet tongue before he finally retreats. He holds her jaw between his fingers, keeping it open so he can let his spit dribble down into her mouth. He watches her eyes glaze further when the sweetness he's experiencing hits her tongue. The cherry on top was watching her swallow obediently. His perfect slut.

“That doesn't answer the question I asked luv”, Price slowly pulled his fingers out of her tight drenched pussy that was trying so desperately to keep him in. Her whine and protest came immediately as she grabbed his hand to keep it on her mound while also trying her best not to cry. He offered her some mercy by rubbing her clit lazily but didn't go further than that. “You're my good girl right? You were doing so well...all I'm asking is for you to answer some simple questions luv”, he gave a harsh slap to her clit causing Witch to flinch and release a couple tears before she finally relaxed into his gentle rubs again. She tried desperately to articulate an answer. There was only so much she could take before breaking into sobs. She wanted to cum so badly this time around. The knot in her stomach was wound so tightly she felt like she was going to tear her apart if she didn't get to come right here right now! Her body was practically shaking from the build up, her legs on the verge of collapsing. She didn't think she's be able to handle much more of the edging.

“Do you find her attractive? Does it make your tight cunt clench imaginin’ her playing with this pussy?” Price finished his questioning by plunging his fingers back into her wet channel. Her juices coating his fingers as it dripped down and stained her soft thighs. Her walls spasming and clenching down hard on the intrusion. Almost as if she was trying to snap his fingers in two.

“Yes….God yes…. I've thought about it sometimes ... .but we're just…. friends…She'd…never allow herself..to be loved like that”, Witch struggled to keep her words coherent as Price continued to attack her sweet spot driving her close to the edge in the matter of seconds. Her last few words confused him. He didn't know what his Witch meant by that. But regardless he continued to keep his ears open not only for Witch's whines and whimpers but for the small almost dismissible sounds you were making. They were subtle but Price still heard the change in your breathing.

“Good fuckin’ girl…Being so honest with yourself…Go on now come….Coat my fingers in your cum darlin. Such a good fucking whore fucking yourself on my finger. My perfect little cum slut..Mine” he growled the last part as he used his other hand to pinch her clit meanly when she shuddered from her release. The knot finally unwound making her juices gush and coat his fingers and whole forearm. It was a hot rush of liquid as he felt her spasm from the intensity of her orgasm. Her legs trembled and shook, forcing Price to remove his fingers as she went limp in his arms. Her body collapsed in on itself as Price held her close to his chest. Making sure to sweep the hair out of her face as he placed gentle kisses on her face.

Her breath came out in harsh pants as her body twitched from being edged for so long. Her skin was glowing from the sweat, her supple body lay limp as he kissed and caressed her beautiful figure. He spent the next couple minutes giving her so much praise as she came down from her high. He felt relief wash over him when he felt her snuggle closer seeking comfort after their intense encounter. It reassured him that he hadn't gone too far. Kisses and gentle touches were exchanged as Price helped her get dressed after wiping her thighs clean. Finally he emerged first from the changing room giving Witch a second to fix her hair and clothes. Making sure she was able to stand on her own.

He found you already outside conversing with the sales assistant on the far side of the shop away from them. You give him a flat look as he approaches with a smug smile gracing his features. Witch scent clung to him and he knew you could smell it. He could also smell your arousal but it didn't seem you were able to make your cum. Your smell was faint. You poor thing... couldn't even make yourself cum. He felt bad for you..truly he did. But he doesn't take lightly to threats. It was good you knew your place in witch's life though. It made it easier to deal with you. You weren't going to fight him for a claim on her. If you had, you would have already confessed to Witch. You continue to ignore him as you finalise your order. The sales assistant leaves to go pack the dress and jewellery you picked out.

“Enjoyed yourself?”, Price tries baiting you. He just wanted to gauge your reaction to what you witnessed. He found that you could be very stoic sometimes, guarding yourself from your emotions. Your expression stayed the same. It seemed you weren't going to let his words affect you.

“You certainly did”, you replied back evenly.

Price watched as your expression softened as Witch emerged from the curtains sheepishly, clearly embarrassed. How adorable, she was no different from a baby fawn walking for the first time. He watched you walk over and let her know you had picked out the dress you wanted with jewellery and the sales assistant was packing the things away. Not for a second giving away what you heard. You give Witch an outlet to change the subject, to ease her nerves about having just been fucked in a public place. How nice of you. He'd let Witch think you hadn't heard her come either. He has already put her through enough today.

He watches you two converse for a bit until the topic of payment comes up. A petty argument starts up pretty quickly as you try to move to the counter to pay. Witch quickly pulls you back refusing to let go.

"No Rún this is on me. I want to buy you your dress for the exhibition", Price watches Witch plea with a soft voice but you don't seem to succumb to it.

"Absolutely not. There's no way I'm letting you spend so much on me. I'm a grown woman I can buy it myself", you adamantly refuse her offer, despite Witch's pleas. Even after her begging you so nicely your answer was still no, which was surprisingly because even Price might have folded with the way she was looking at you.

It was a lot of back and forth of yes and no’s. In the time you two were bickering Price had managed to pick out a few more dresses for Witch and while also matching jewellery to them. By the time he had paid and was carrying the bags towards you two, You were giving Witch the silent treatment.

“This is just like that time in secondary sch-”, Witch's voice gets cut off as Price places the bags in both of your hands. He sees the panic in your eyes as you go to hand the bag back. He watches his hook imbed into your heart. The first one in a while it seems. Witch tries to stop you, pleading with you to accept it. Which you don't. No surprise there. Such a deeply mistrusting person you were. Though he can't blame you. Your first few encounters with him haven't been the best. He probably should try harder to make a better impression on you. Witch cared about you meaning you were his person by extension. Just like any of his boys.

“Rún you need a dress for the exhibit, it's such an important event for you”, Witch watches you give Price the bag back which he promptly returned back into your hands. Which you try to return again. Such a childlish game you were playing.

“I'll go naked if I have too!”, you blurt out, not really thinking about what you were saying. Price saw the panic in your eyes. You just wanted the tether gone.

“Fine I'm going naked too then”, Witch also hands the bags back to Price.

“No one is going naked!”, Price looks at both of them like they've gone crazy. It seemed like Witch wanted to match your childlish energy.

“Don't tell me what I can or can't do”, you glare at him as you hand the bags back as well.

“Yeah, don't tell me what I can or can't do!”, Witch repeats.

You two were literally two peas in a pod, much to Price's annoyance. “As if I'd allow you two to walk around naked! Not to mention the amount of rats I'll have to blind to protect you two. NO ONE and I mean NO ONE is allowed to go out naked!”, Price gives you both a very intense warning which you both ignore. God this was a nightmare! It was like you enjoyed causing his blood pressure to rise.

He watches you roll your eyes at him as you cross your arms over your chest. “She goes to her coven rituals naked, you gonna put a stop to that too?"

“That doesn't count!”, Witch groans. “It's not like you haven't seen me naked.”, that statement earns Witch a raised eyebrow from Price, which she ignores.

“I don't have a problem with you being naked, he does”, Price watches you point a finger at him in a accusatory way.

“Keep sassing me and see where it'll get you.”, he gives you a warning and you just rolls your eyes again, emboldened by the fact Witch wouldn't let anything happen to you. “Go out naked if you want but I'll be plucking out the eyes of anyone who dares to look at you two.”

“Come now Rún, dealing with all that trouble and bloodshed isn't worth it, just accept the dress”, Witch tried to reason with your rationality even though she knew that there was no way you would actually go to your event naked. Witch's eyes soften after a couple seconds of staring at your pouty lips. Price watches her give you her best puppy dog eyes.

“Please Rún I just want to treat you to something nice for such a big achievement let Price give you the dress…please?”

You turn your head, refusing to look at her. Witch continues to try to convince you with little luck. So Price tries.

“....It's a shame really, you'll never get to see Witch in that red dress again”, Prices comment causes your ears to perk up. Witch watches your expression change from resistance to contemplation. She takes her chance to play into the situation to win you over.

“A real shame… I was sooo looking forward to dressing up and supporting you on your big day. I guess I won't be able to do that anymore”, You turn to face her. Witch was really playing into it. Never knew she was such a great actress. Price watched as Witch's pouty lips and downturned eyebrows bring you out of your head. You finally think about it for a moment before sighing in defeat.

“Ugh….fine….I'm only agreeing because I want to see you dolled up…nothing else”, you put out your hand gingerly as Price places the bag in your hand. A triumphant smirk adorning both Witch's and Price's face. You let out a huff of air as you try to walk to the exit but are dragged over to the jewellery section before you could even take a step.

“No, I still need to get you a gift from me!”, Witch begins to show you jewellery which starts another argument though you put up less resistance this time. By the end of the shopping session you had a bag and a box gifted to you by both Witch and Price. With Price and Witch very happy with their win. You definitely sulked on the way back to Witch's home. But there's nothing a home cooked meal couldn't fix.

Copyright © by ethereal-night-fairy. 2024. All Rights Reserved. Writing not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.

#1fae1 #fae!price #ghouljams oc witch #fae au #captain john price #captain price #john price #captian price #captain john price x reader #captain john price x reader smut #captain price smut #captain price x reader #captain price x you #captain price cod #captain price mw2 #john price call of duty #price #john price smut #john price x reader #john price x reader smut #john price x y/n #john price x you #third person pov #Forgotten Sorrows #I ~ writes

[sinfulsalutations]

𝕓𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕦𝕟𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕖 ⋆*･ﾟ 𝕔𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕣𝕖𝕩

➼ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ☆ ᴄᴀᴘᴛᴀɪɴ ʀᴇx x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➼ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ ☆ ʀᴇx ᴇɴᴊᴏʏꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪɴᴅʟᴇꜱꜱʟʏ ᴀꜰꜰᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ-ꜰɪʟʟᴇᴅ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ ʜᴇ ᴅᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇꜱ.

➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ᴛᴏᴏᴛʜ-ʀᴏᴛᴛɪɴɢ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ, ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ ᴄᴜᴅᴅʟᴇꜱ, ꜱᴏꜰᴛ ᴋɪꜱꜱɪɴɢ/ᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ, ɪᴍᴘʟɪᴇᴅ ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ (ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ), ᴄᴜᴛᴇ ꜱᴛᴜꜰꜰ ᴀʟʟ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ

➼ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ☆ 1.7ᴋ

➼ ᴘᴏᴠ ☆ ᴛʜɪʀᴅ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ

⋆ ★ ᴡᴇʟᴘ, ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ꜱᴇʟꜰ ɪɴᴅᴜʟɢᴇɴᴛ, ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰʏ ᴛʀᴀꜱʜ ɪ'ᴠᴇ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴡʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴀʀᴇ ᴀɴʏ ʟᴇꜱꜱ. ɪ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ɴᴇᴇᴅᴇᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛᴏ ɢᴇᴛ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴄʀɪᴘᴘʟɪɴɢ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇʀꜱ ʙʟᴏᴄᴋ. ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ɪᴛ ᴛᴜʀɴᴇᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴀɴʏᴡᴀʏ ꜱᴏ ᴡʜᴏ ɢɪᴠᴇꜱ ᴀ ꜰᴜᴄᴋ. ꜱᴏᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ꜰᴜʀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴀᴅᴏ, ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ!

⋆ ★ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3 ⋆*･ﾟ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀᴍ

It wasn’t far till dawn; the dark sky no longer sucked in everything surrounding it into darkness, taking on a new, bright blue color, and the bustling of Coruscant slowly rose again as the early risers of the city began the day. Rex’s brain was wired strictly to wake up at 0600; but at 0640, he barely stirred beside her, even when she began to slowly detach herself from his grasp. 

The night before was filled with something rough and desperate, a love that was only reserved for when they were truly, completely alone. Then, he let himself lose just an ounce of control; tugged at her hair, gripped her wrists, buck into her core almost rabidly. It wasn’t much, but it was the most he ever let down. And she knew damn well and treasured it greatly. 

But now, after the harshness of last night, was something else entirely; tender and loving. With his grasp as he slept, he was grateful; thanked her over and over again endlessly for her presence in his life, the fact that he could go to her apartment and come home to such a gift. He could never thank her or express his gratitude enough. 

Possibly that's why he gripped her wrist when she tried to slip out of bed. 

She gasped softly, and his eye, still half closed, opened completely and met hers. Her hair was not as neatly brushed back as she liked it, no thanks to his hands. Only wearing panties and the top of his blacks, the soft skin of her thighs looked so delectable under the soft light of dawn. 

“I thought you were asleep,” She rasped out, voice hoarse. He grinned, very softly, only a fragment of the happiness he felt in her presence, and shook his head. Half of his face was still buried in a pillow. 

“Why’d you think you could sneak out?” He asked her. She raised an eyebrow, slightly bewildered. 

“I’m just going to turn off the lights.” She gestured toward the bathroom. Just as they left it when they fell asleep, the bright yellow lights in the bathroom peeked through the door.  Under the door to the hallway, he could see light pouring through as well. 

Rex grumbled, pouting a little just to entice her. She knew how strict she was about turning off the lights; paying the electric and water bills in a city like Coruscant wasn’t easy. She must’ve been itching the second she noticed to quickly sneak out, turn off the lights, and return to Rex in bed. But he was finding it difficult to have her leave that long, especially when he was getting deployed that afternoon.  He didn't want to waste any second not in her presence, not in her arms; frankly, he did 't know how long he'd be gone for, how long a holopic will the the only way he could see her smile; he wanted to savor every single moment possible. 

“It’ll be quickm I swear,” She said, and slipped out before trying to tug her wrist away from him. She managed to free her wrist from his grasp, but he rolled closer to where she walked too, outstretching an arm to her. 

“Quick is too long,” He complained; while she huffed, he only smirked and leaned the top of his body off the bed, wrapping his arms around her torso and pulling her back into the bed.

“Rex!” She squealed out, giggling as his arms wrapped tightly around her, keeping her in place on his lap as he kissed her neck insistently. His hands moved up, coming to softly cup the side of her breasts, and she sighed softly, her body falling victim to his touches.

She could feel the smirk that formed when she relaxed.

“So I guess you’re staying.”

She gasped, realizing the little plan he initiated, and shoved herself off of him. Limp, he fell backward, his back colliding with the bed as his mouth fell open. 

“C’mon!”

“You tricked me,” She retorted, crossing her arms over her chest. This only caused his eyes to drift downward to where her breasts pushed together, and she scoffed and dropped her arms, stomping her foot lightly. “Whatever. I’ll be back.” And with an accusing finger pointed at his smug face, she turned around quickly and went to turn off all the lights around the apartment. 

Rex sighed and let his head roll backward. As his eyes fluttered closed, he drifted away, trying to focus only on the sound of her distant footsteps and humming. A small smile crept up on his face; he relaxed a bit more even, practically sinking into the mattress.

He didn’t know how much time had passed, but by the time he was fully up again, he could hear the sizzling of something over the stove in the other room. With a heave, he pushed himself off the bed and walked into her kitchen, seeing her prode at a pancake on a pan. Rex groaned and dipped down, taking heavy steps before he wrapped his arms loosely around her waist. His lips formed a petty, cute little pout when they found a spot to rest on the side of her neck.

“You lied,” he said once he finished kissing over a little bruise he left the night before.

She hummed, faux confusion laced in.

“You didn't come back to bed.”

She sighed, dropping the utensil onto the pan, and covered his hands with her own, sloppily interlacing their fingers.

“You were out like a light by the time I came back”

“What time is it now?”

She hesitated. But eventually, the words slipped out meekly.

“0900”

Rex just managed to suppress any large reaction, and instead decided to pinch at the soft skin of her thigh ever so slightly. She squealed.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” He interrogated, his chin coming to rest on her shoulder. It rose and fell as she shrugged, looking the other way guiltily. 

“Looked like you needed the sleep,” She commented, moving the pancake around aimlessly. “Would you grab a plate for me, please?”

“Of course, cyare,” He said, rather cheekily, but still did it immediately at her request. Not once did his other hand move from where it rested on her stomach while he did the job; he was firmly pressed against her back, with no plans of moving any time soon. She lifted the pan and slid the pancake onto the plate he held out for her, going to grab the bowl of batter to pour another.

“Thank you, cyare,” She mimicked the pet name he always endearingly called her. He couldn't see her face very well, but he just managed to catch the way her lips tilted upward cheekily. The rest he could fill in himself in his mind. 

“Why are you so relentless about that name?”

“I’m not!” She defended herself. “I just think it’s really cute, you know? How you call me that” She turned her head around to face him. A little smile just managed to creep up, and it spread to his infectiously.

“Hm, you love it.” He finished the sentence with a soft kiss on her neck, and as she flipped the pancake onto the uncooked side. She didn’t disagree, not even close. But she didn’t respond either; she hummed along to a tune, a tune they had heard the night before and danced to when she dragged him onto the floor at 79’s, practically on her knees begging for just one song. He didn’t say no to her, how could he? But what they did wasn’t really dancing. It was more of Rex slowly rocking himself back and forth his two heels while she took the lead, and even that just turned into a shameless grind surrounded by a crowd of his brothers and their own companions. But the song that soundtracked the moment had been engraved in his head, quite quickly for such a short period of time. He remembered it well when she began to hum the tune, rather sloppily.

It felt like an eternity she took making the pancakes, until finally when Rex had begun to doze off in the crook of her neck, she turned around in his arms. Her hands met at the back of his neck, pressing him closer to her frame.

“I wanted to treat you,” She added. When he flashed her a sly skeptical look, she shrugged defensively. “I don’t know how long you’ll be gone for.”

That was the comment that almost had Rex get lost in his thoughts again. That same dreaded feeling that plagued him when he was away from her, anticipating that every day out in battle could be his last. She saw the shift in his eyes, and she quickly changed the subject, coming up to stroke his cheek.

“You treat me so well, I felt a little guilty.”

He seemed perplexed. Eyes still glued to hers, he gripped onto the backs of her thighs, swiftly lifting her up and moving them toward the counter, sitting her atop it beside the two fresh plates of pancakes.

“Why would you think that?” He asked her. Gingerly, his chin tilted up and he softly placed a lingering, groggy morning kiss on her lips. She seemed to be more awake than he was; she reciprocated enthusiastically. 

“You treat me better than the universe ever did.”

Her chin dipped down and she hid her sweet little grin. He firmly lifted her head up to catch the smile. 

“I’m serious, cyare,” His hands came to cup her cheeks, softly stroking the eyebags hanging under her eyes, trying to smooth them out under the pads of his thumbs. She appreciated the sentiment, but it was hard to imagine it would do any repairing. 

“I know,” She said softly, dipping down and kissing his nose, so incredibly soft. “I know you think that.”

Rex huffed, before going in with his hands, taking off a piece of one of the pancakes and popping it into his mouth. As he chewed, he shook his head in disapproval. And with a rough swallow, he finished his thought, so assured in what he was saying.

“And I know it's true.”

#nour writes stuff #star wars #star wars the clone wars #the clone wars #tcw #captain rex #clone captain rex #captain rex x reader #captain rex x you #captain rex x y/n #third person pov #oneshot #fluff #fluffy trash #ao3 #fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #reader insert

[pollyna]

After he dies, someone in the Navy starts to play with the idea of making a biography of Iceman's life. Annapolis, Pensacola, Top Gun, the Gulf, all the missions, all the secret missions he took part in, and his stellar career in the Admiralty, all crowned by the four starts on his shoulders. And how to pass the possibility of finally having answers to all the voices about his private life? About a wife who wasn't really a wife, kids who aren't his own and used to call him uncle, the kid of another dead naval aviator who still calls him dad and all the torrid affair, supposedly, with captain Mitchell?

What they give Daniel to start somewhere is the address of a place lost in the desert and a house two hours from the nearest Naval base. The woman who lives in the second place takes one look at him and says "You can tell the Navy they can all fuck themselves and if someone tries to publish a single word on Tom I'm going to sue everyone for so much money they're going to start to have to pay everyone in candies and I'll be able to solve the food problem of the world and still fuckin' rich" before closing the door on his face. The man of the first address, now RDML Mitchell, offers him a glass of water in a hangar full of planes, bikes and spare parts with enough grief written all over his face that Daniel doesn't have the strength for asking a single damn question.

"It's not your story, or theirs, to tell." Mitchell says, smiling softly, touching the wedding ring around his finger. By the time Daniel finds himself leaving, the man is already moving around, moving this and that part, searching for something. He notices it, just before leaving the hangar: a panel of pictures with a young, tall, and blond guy hugging a kid, kissing a shorter brunet aviator, in another his arm around a guy taller than him and then the same guy growing in his adult features, still kissing a now older brunet aviator, a wedding pics, graduations and Christmas, the woman who threats to sue the Navy dancing with another woman, and so many more pictures Daniel doesn't know if a day will be enough to see them all.

"It's not your story to tell," he repeats to the Admirals two days later "his ex-wife threatens to sue the Navy for enough damage to make you close the whole hovel around here."

"Someone else will write it if you won't." One of them says.

"Let them try. I don't think they're going to receive the same hospitality, next time."

#tom iceman kazansky (mentioned) #sarah kazansky #pete maverick mitchell #OC #third person pov #the admirality #(a bunch of fucking assholes) #RDML stands for rear admiral lower half #implied: #icemav #they raised baby goose #aroace sarah #lavander marriage #sarah & nadia qrp #sarah is a lawyer (badass baby) #top gun: maverick #canon compliant #otp: i heard from the heavens that clouds have been grey

[pedroscurls]

Title: One Drunken Night (Part 1.)

CHAPTER TITLE: An Unexpected Stranger

Character(s): Negan (pre-apocalypse), Reader (third-person POV), Lucille Summary: Reader’s date stands her up, so she decides to stay at the bar anyway. Then, she meets Negan who unravels her entire world.  Word Count: 2,462 Author's Note: I have been so excited to write this story and I can't wait for you all to read it. It is an alternate universe for the characters I'm writing and pre-apocalyptic as well. Also, I'm giving a warning that I am including Lucille in this story and while I love her and Negan together, this story will showcase their crumbling marriage. So bear with me! It'll all be worth it... Enjoy! Warning: SMUT!!!

“I’m trying, Lucille!” Negan yelled, running a hand over his face. 

“Not hard enough,” she spat back.

This had become the norm. Negan would get home from work and Lucille would nitpick every little thing he was doing wrong. It had been like this for so long that he had gotten used to it. He didn’t know what happened in his marriage that caused this abrupt shift, but he was tired. He was exhausted. 

“Nothing I do will ever be enough, will it?”

Lucille crossed her arms over her chest. “Seems like it.”

“Goddamn, Lucille. What the fuck do you want from me?”

“I want you to find a better job. We’ve already talked about this. You even agreed with me, even told me how you hate your job now, but you aren’t even doing anything about it!”

“Like I said, I’m trying.”

“Oh? And how’s that?” Lucille replied, shaking her head. “You come home and go straight to that game of yours, cursing at other kids… You’re a gym coach, Negan! I know that’s not what you want to continue doing.”

Negan scoffed. He rolled his eyes and looked over at her. “You don’t know what I want.”

“Yes, I do! You’ve complained about that job for so long, but you’re not doing shit about it and I am tired of hearing you complain.”

Negan tightened his jaw. He knew she was right, but he just was too comfortable at the position he was in now that he didn’t want to start over and look for another job. He didn’t want change. “My complaining isn’t hurting anybody.”

“It’s all you talk about!” 

“Well, that’s a fucking lie. You’re no saint either, Lucille.”

She shook her head. “I’m trying to make this work.”

“How? By yelling at me every fucking day?”

She threw her hands in the air and sighed, looking over at Negan. “I don’t know what to do to help you anymore, Negan.”

“I don’t need fucking help, Lucille.” He spat, turning on his heel. He grabbed his car keys and left the house, slamming the front door shut. Negan needed to get out of the house. He didn’t know how much more he could take, but he needed space, he needed fresh air. 

So, he went to a bar in the city. Negan looked down at his hand and sighed, removing his wedding ring and putting it in the glovebox. For one night, he just wanted to forget.

Taking a seat at the bar, he ordered a glass of scotch and focused his attention on the basketball game that was being broadcasted. He had lost count of how many nights he and Lucille argued. He didn’t know what happened in his marriage that led to the constant arguments, the constant nitpicking. He didn’t even feel like Lucille wanted, or even loved him, anymore. If anything, the look in her eyes was always filled with disappointment. While the arguments were consistent, his sex life with Lucille wasn’t. He tried to initiate sex plenty of times, hoping that physical intimacy would ease whatever tension was built up, but she had rejected him every single time. So, Negan had become quite acquainted with his hand. It wasn’t the same, but he didn’t know what else to do.

He was so distracted in his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed a beautiful woman sitting next to him. Alone.

“Goddammit!” Negan heard her say. He looked at her from the corner of his eye, noticing that she was also focused on the game. “How’d he miss that shot?” she asked herself.

Negan downed his drink and raised a finger to order another. It was the courage he needed to make conversation. “You a Lakers fan?”

She didn’t face him, but she nodded. “Oh yeah. Though, the 2008 Lakers is my all-time favorite.”

Negan smirked to himself. He yearned for conversation that didn’t lead to him getting yelled at. “I’m Negan.”

She finally turned her attention to him. She surely wasn’t expecting someone as handsome and ruggedly sexy as him to talk to her, so it took her by surprise. The salt and pepper beard sat perfectly on his face, showcasing his dimples and his thin, inviting lips. 

He was the perfect distraction she needed.

“That’s an interesting name.”

“Yeah… Don’t ask me why my parents decided on it.”

She giggled. Negan was feeling increasingly confident. “I’m Y/N.”

“Well, nice to meet you. You waiting on anyone?”

“Had a date.” 

“Oh, that bad?”

“He stood me up.”

“Ah fuck, I’m sorry, doll. His loss.”

She smiled, shrugging a shoulder. “It wasn’t serious. To be honest with you, it probably would’ve just ended up with me hooking up with him anyway.”

Negan choked on his drink, quietly coughing to clear his throat. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Hm? Oh, I met him on this dating app. You know what that is?”

Negan scoffed, rolling his eyes playfully. “Of course. I’m not that fucking old.”

“Well then, you should know that those dates rarely turn into something serious. It’s an easy way to hook up with someone.”

“Pretty thing like you don’t got a boyfriend?”

She grinned. “I can’t be tamed.” Though, she was partly lying. She had her eye on someone, developed a crush, but the man didn’t know. 

Negan instead laughed. He shook his head and motioned to her empty drink. “What are you drinking? I’ll pay for the next round.”

“What a gentleman.” She winked. “Drinking a glass of moscato.” 

“Fancy.” Negan smiled, ordering another glass of wine for her. 

“Hardly.”

“So, it seems like you’re shit out of luck in the hooking up department,” he commented. Negan stared into her eyes and could tell that she was thinking the same thing. He watched her bite her lower lip, practically confirming that she wanted him too.

“Maybe not. The night is young, Negan.” She then turned her attention back to the game, once more getting excited with the game. Negan looked at her with an amused gaze. 

Oh, he was definitely going to sleep with her tonight. He would deal with the consequences tomorrow.

A couple of hours later, Negan and Y/N were now facing each other. His long legs were brushing against hers, practically inviting her to spread her legs for him. She was getting handsy, either running her fingertips along his forearms or running her hands along his thighs. It made Negan excited at the thought of how his night was going to end. It would feel good to feel something other than his hand for once.

“I can’t believe my team lost,” she said, feigning a pout.

“You poor thing,” Negan replied, leaning in closer to her. “Is there anything I can do to help?” He asked innocently.

“Hm…” I can think of a few things,” she whispered, biting her lower lip.

“Oh yeah?” What do you have in mind, doll?” Negan smirked.

“Wanna go back to my place?” she asked.

Negan grinned. “Let’s get out of here.”

Back at her apartment, Negan didn’t let her kiss him. Internally, he was battling with himself, but he couldn’t help the ache in his lower half. His mind drifted to Lucille, but he pushed the thought away once he saw Y/N pull her shirt over her head to reveal that she wasn’t even wearing a bra back at the bar.

“What?” she asked, undoing the button on her pants.

“Y–You weren’t wearing a bra while we were at the bar?”

She shook her head, licking her lips. “Who needs ‘em?”

Negan growled, pulling her to him and running his lips along her neck. He peppered kisses along her soft skin, hearing her whimper as a result. He felt his cock stir awake, pushing against the fabric of his pants. His hands ran along her sides, feeling her skin against his fingertips as he brought both hands to grasp her breasts. She gasped and Negan pulled back to look at her.

“Goddamn, you are beautiful.”

She grinned, pushing him down onto her bed. Y/N undid her pants, pulling them down with her panties as she stood in front of him, naked.

“Take your clothes off,” she demanded.

“Oh, yes ma’am.” Negan nodded, removing his shirt and tossing it to the floor. Quickly, he undid the buckle on his belt and undid the button and unzipped his pants. Before he could push it down his legs, he watched Y/N kneel down in front of him. Immediately, he got excited about what was to come and he sat up, watching as her hands ran up his legs to the waistband of his pants.

“Can I?” she asked, fluttering her eyes innocently.

Negan smirked, bringing a hand down to cup her cheek. “Oh, you better, doll.”

She grinned and pulled his pants down with his boxers. His cock sprang free, twitching against his lower abdomen as Negan let out a quiet moan at the pressure that was released. He let his hands rest at either side of him, licking his lips.

“Well?” He asked.

“It’s– It’s big.”

He smirked. “It ain’t gonna suck itself, doll.”

“Can you at least say please?”

Negan growled, bringing a hand to grasp a chunk of her hair. He used his free hand to grasp his cock, letting his tip run along her wet lips. “Oh no, doll… If anyone’s going to be begging, it’s going to be you. Now, open up.”

“Happily,” she winked, parting her lips to let his tip slip inside. 

Negan groaned, releasing his cock and allowed her to take hold of it instead. He forced himself to keep it together, feeling her petite hand stroke his member as her lips sucked on his tip. It was the right amount of pleasure that caused his eyes to roll shut.

“Fuck,” he growled.

Y/N was feeling accomplished, slowly moving in sync with her hand and her mouth. She used her hand to stroke what her mouth couldn’t. She could feel him stiffen further and taste the liquid that was leaking at his tip. She was becoming increasingly wet and she wanted to feel him inside of her.

“Get up here,” Negan demanded. He was probably thinking the same thing. “I don’t know how long I’m going to fucking last if you keep doing that.”

She pulled away, licking her lips. “Mm, I really do love blowjobs.”

Negan grunted. He was enjoying her colorful language and the fact that she wasn’t holding anything back. He was used to women, especially Lucille, who didn’t like giving head and he always hated asking for it, but here was someone who eagerly enjoyed it as much as he did receiving it. 

“Where do you want me?” She asked innocently.

“Oh, don’t play that innocent card on me, baby.” Negan grinned, pulling her onto his lap. She felt his tip brush against her opening, causing her to whimper as a result. “We both know how naughty you are.”

She grinned. “Shh, it’s our little secret.” Negan didn’t have time to register or respond because she had grasped his cock, lining his tip to her opening before she slowly lowered herself onto him. He moaned aloud, feeling her tight walls wrap around his cock so eagerly.

“Fucking fuck!” He exclaimed, bringing his hands to her hips. “You feel amazing.”

Her response was a loud moan, slowly lifting herself up and down along him. She pressed her feet on either side of his legs, squatting down repeatedly as she felt his cock stretch her from within. It had been like nothing she felt before and she decided that she was going to stop going after men her own age. After all, she always had a thing for older men.

“Oh my god,” she moaned, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as her rhythm picked up in speed. 

Negan grunted, allowing her to ride him like her life depended on it. This was definitely better than his hand. 

“Fuck, baby.” Negan grunted, holding her flush against him as she moaned at the feel of him being fully inside her. “Yeah, look at you… Taking that dick like a champ.”

She moaned, staying still for a moment as she wrapped her legs around him. Negan grinned, standing from the bed and slowly lowering her onto her back. He pulled back, looking down at his slickened member once he pulled out.

“No… Come back.” She whimpered, pulling him by the hips.

“Where’s my please?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Please.”

“Good girl.” Negan grinned, grasping his cock and slamming into her. She moaned once more, moving her hands to grasp her sheets tightly. 

Negan didn’t hold back anymore. He continued to slam into her repeatedly, the sounds of their skin slapping echoed throughout her walls. Her breasts bounced with each thrust, causing Negan to lean down to latch his lips onto one of her nipples. Y/N arched her back into his mouth, feeling her walls slowly begin to tighten around him.

“Fuck, I know you’re close… Come for me, baby.” Negan mumbled against her, flicking his tongue against her erected nipple.

With one thrust, he felt her walls tighten almost painfully around him. She practically screamed out in pleasure with her eyes shut and her body shaking against him.

“That’s right… Good girl.” Negan didn’t falter, continuing his thrusts as he felt his own climax approaching. With a few more thrusts, he groaned aloud, filling her opening with his release. 

“Fuck…” He whispered, falling against her. “Fuck.”

She grinned, running her fingertips along his back. 

“You were great,” she said. “Really great.”

Negan smiled, pulling back and slowly pulling out of her. “You were too.”

“Just so we’re clear…” Negan heard her say. “This won’t be happening again.”

Negan arched a brow. “You sure?”

She nodded. “Positive. It’s called a hook up for a reason.”

Negan smiled, pulling his shirt over his head and grabbing his boxers and jeans. She was probably right anyway. He was still married and it wasn’t like they could just be in a relationship after this.

“Well, it was fun while it lasted.” He said, pulling his boxers on to cover himself. Negan took one last glance over her bare body before she covered herself with the blanket.

“I agree. It was– It was sensational.”

“Oh, now you’re stroking my ego.”

“I was stroking something else there for a minute,” she winked.

Negan laughed. “Take it easy, doll. Thank you for an amazing night.”

She nodded, biting her lower lip. “Take care of yourself, Negan.”

Negan gave her one last nod and left her apartment. He sighed, walking to his car and stepping inside. He opened the glove box and pulled out his ring, taking a deep sigh. 

“Back to reality…”

---

Part 2.

#the walking dead #twd fanfiction #jeffrey dean morgan #negan the walking dead #negan smith #negan #negan twd #the walking dead fanfiction #jdm fanfiction #negan fanfiction #negan x reader #third person pov #twd #negan's thirst squad #story: one drunken night #negan pre-apocalypse

[cupidford]

Cupid's Venom by SilentAuror

Stamford tells Sherlock that he wished he could have taken credit for being Cupid. Unfamiliar with the reference, Sherlock plunges into studies of toxins and Greek mythology...

Saved in drafts for around Valentine's Day

#jl3 #johnlockloveletters #johnlock #love letters #<50k #Valentine's Day #Cupid #cupid mike stamford #cupid Stamford #Mike Stamford is Cupid #greek mythology #post s4 #POV Sherlock #POV third person #third person POV #romance #pining Sherlock #Happy Ending

[rainbowsandwhumperflies]

Whumptober day six

No. 6: “Do or die, you’ll never make me; Because the world will never take my heart.” Recording | Made to Watch | “It should have been me.”

tws: implications of past torture, Caretaker blaming themself for things, lmk if I missed any!

“It should’ve been me.”

Whumpee didn’t think they were supposed to hear it, or maybe Caretaker just didn’t mean to say it out loud. Either way, Whumpee’s head snapped up, staring at Caretaker, who wouldn’t look back at them. “Sorry, you think it should’ve what?” Whumpee repeated, and Caretaker still wouldn’t meet their eyes.

“Just- Whumpee, you’re so… what happened there did something to you, and you deserve so much better, and I should’ve been there. I could’ve protected you, I, I could’ve-”

“What? You could’ve given Whumper more things to use against me as leverage?” Whumpee didn’t mean to spit the words out like acid, but that’s how they were said anyway. They took a deep, slow breath before trying to talk again. “You’re not at fault here, Caretaker.”

“That shouldn’t have happened to you, Whumpee.” Was Caretaker crying? “I should have found you faster, and, and protected you, and- it should’ve been me instead, and that way you wouldn’t have had to go through it in the first place, and-”

“Caretaker, this is not a productive rabbit hole to fall into. You don’t know what would’ve happened if the circumstances were different. No one does. We just have to figure out what to do now that it’s already happened. You’re right that it shouldn’t have happened to me, but it really shouldn’t have happened to anyone. Whumper is the one to blame here, not you. Never you.”

Caretaker nodded after a moment, still not looking away from the window they’d been adamantly staring out of.

“I can’t stand on this leg,” Whumpee reminded them dryly. “If you’d like hugs, you’re going to have to come get them over here. I can’t go to you.”

Caretaker went over to Whumpee. Of course they did—they’d go anywhere Whumpee asked.

#whumptober 2023 #no.6 #it should've been me #writing #whump #whumpee #caretaker #rainbow's whump #rainbow's drabbles #whump writing #pls pretend this isn't late i'm gonna explode #i finally started fall break so i should be able to catch up soon!! #third person pov

[rosepetalsinwinter]

#tumblr polls #fanfiction #writing #books #pov #point of view #second person pov #third person pov #first person pov #bucky barnes x reader #x reader #fanfic #literature

[auntie-venom]

Will of Fate

Chapter Eleven

Fandom: Star Wars: The Mandalorian

Story Rating: Explicit

Chapter Rating: Mature

Characters: Din Djarin x Original Female Character

Summary: There hasn’t been an unidentified spacecraft in the stratosphere of Arkadia in over two decades, let alone three in one day. Those skilled or mad enough to venture into the Chaos unguided were few and far between. That means no one has ever made it to Arkadia who wasn’t intending to be here.

Until today.

or

Din Djarin finds an unmapped planet filled with beings who have the same powers as the Child, but know nothing of the force or the Jedi.

Chapter Summary: Eziriel and the Mandalorian kick off the hunt for the missing Imperial TIE pilot.

Word Count - 3,944

Chapter Warnings: None

Will of Fate Masterlist

Read on Ao3

A/N: This chapter is a little later than I intended. Real life tends to get busy when you want to get creative. I really appreciate everyone who is reading and letting me know that you like what I am doing. It is very encouraging. I hope you enjoy, any feedback is welcome!

Chapter Eleven

Eziriel is grumpily eating her breakfast. She got up at a ridiculous hour, long before the sun was meant to rise, to ride to the skyport and pack all the supplies she and the Mandalorian would need. She knew that he planned to leave in the morning after dropping his kid off with Nora and she wanted to make sure she had the skyship ready by then.

She had packed provisions into bags with the assumption that this task would take no longer than seven days. She honestly had no idea how long a bounty hunter took to catch a bounty, but if it took longer than seven days she would personally either grab something from a beacon station supply cache or take the few hours by skyship back to Helix to grab more supplies.

She had put away the drop-seats in the drop bay and packed the speeder bike into that area of the skyship. The ship was pretty small, but the Forest of Ga’ladora was very dense. She was sure she should be able to fly him close enough to the last known evidence point to drop him off with the bike to help his descent while she found a close place to land.

She did most of these tasks with a sense of smoldering rage. Amarian and her were discussing the lost Imperial TIE pilot on their way home from work the day before. After she voiced her concerns over her growing state of paranoia after returning to work and not knowing how to act amongst a potential betrayer, he admitted his frustration with the missing Imp and how he was irritated at the team of Enforcers’ lack of results. Eziriel thought they were just commiserating together over related woes until Amarian joked about hiring the Mandalorian to fix both of their problems; he could hunt down the TIE pilot and Eziriel would have to go with him due to her oath binding herself to his safety. Eziriel laughed, thinking there was no way Amarian would use her oath to the Mandalorian as a way to sneak her out of the office so quickly after being gone for weeks just so she can avoid the tension there.

But the bastard kriffing did it.

Eziriel knows an argument with the Mandalorian is coming. She did not discuss her coming with him on this trip and knows that there is going to be pushback from the man, and she completely understands. She does not want to be put in a dangerous situation. She is not someone who looks for risks to be heroic, she is the type of person to help come up with a plan and send people on their way with useful toys. So she knows she will have to sell her coming in a way that the Mandalorian is going to have to accept, and by the time she is finished with her labor, she thinks she's gotten her argument fully prepared.

It was an overall exhausting morning, but she took a moment of serenity, sitting at the edge of the launchpad and letting the rising sun warm her skin as she ate her breakfast in the quiet of the morning. Trying hard not to dwell on the impending argument from a stubborn man and about how much she enjoyed his presence interacting with her family last night.

After scheming with Amarian about the hunt and the supplies the Mandalorian needed to complete it successfully, they had a hearty dinner where Amarian offered the Mandalorian a table to eat in his locked study with the audio patched into the dining area. With how used to the disembodied voice of CHI the family was it was very easy to integrate the Mandalorian’s input into conversation. He did not speak much, but he asked more about the farming district where Nora grew up and how the agricultural council operated. This led to a boring discussion that Eziriel bailed out of in favor of making her niblings and the green child laugh with silly faces. It was a familiar type of evening that she missed while she was away trying to source the Cloak’s glitches. So she is extra annoyed she has to leave the familiarity of it so quickly because of Amarian using the Mandalorian.

By the time she is finished with her breakfast, Eziriel has built up the mental fortitude she knows she needs in order not to take out her frustrations upon another person. Taking one last moment to watch the late summer sunlight up Helix for the day, she stands up and goes to start running the preflight check on the small skyship.

════════════════════════════════════

“What are you doing here?” the Mandalorian’s voice asks out from the small cabin of the ship and she looks up from underneath the console to catch him placing a forearm onto the upper part of the door frame to lean in. “Don’t you have work?”

“Yep,” she says nonchalantly, hauling herself into the pilot seat and turning it to face him. She stares at him for a moment before continuing, “But I can review project updates during our flight.”

She watches his whole body still as he stares down at her and she feels a spike of worry come off him before he finally says in a stern voice, “No.”

“Yes,” she responds.

“You are not coming with me,” he demands.

“Hey Lori, I don’t want to come at all–”

“Great, problem solved,” he interrupts before grabbing her and pulling her out of the pilot seat.

“But I am sworn to your safety.” She explains, planting her heels into the ground and pulling herself out of his grip, knowing full and well that he isn't giving his full strength. She sits back down in the chair and gives him a scolding look. “We have gone over this.”

“What I do is too dangerous for some princess to ride along on,” he says in a frustrated tone. Leaning over into her space he plants his hands on the armrests, caging her into the seat. “This is dangerous and your silly superstitions have no place in it. Go home.”

Eziriel feels her facial features go heavy in anger at the condescending tone he is giving her and she has to take a breath before she lashes out. She’s used to being talked down to at work by her higher-ups or political snobs who want to use her for whatever skeezy plot they desire, but she expected more from those she considers friends. Yes, she has teased the Mandalorian, but has never patronized him like this before and it is insulting that he is doing it to her. She has been nothing but respectful to him and his more devout followings of his culture, just for him to throw hers in her face. There is a twinge of regret she feels from him that grows as she stares up at him in silence and she leans in close enough to him that her nose almost touches his helmet.

“The stakes of my honor are not superstition to me,” she states in a low threatening voice. “I thought a Mandalorian would understand that and would not insult it. Just as we do not insult how others' honor might be recognized in their culture,” she finishes with a flick to the side of his helmet to drive home her point and glares at him.

That small sliver of regret she feels in him cracks into remorse, but that initial spike of worry clouds his aura and she can understand where his harsh words came from. They stay there, him looking down at her still caging her in and her staring at the T in his helmet hoping she is meeting his eyeline. He finally drops his head forward and lets out a familiar sigh that Ezirial is starting to recognize as exasperated concession.

“I can tell that you are good at your job and my being there will be distracting enough to make it more dangerous for you, and ultimately go against my oath to your safety. That is why I feel I can keep you most safe by flying you to the locations you are needed and giving you backup from the safety of the skyship,” she explains her logic to him. “I have no intention of being on the ground with you hunting this person. My way of keeping you safe is to keep an open comm with you so I know if I need to give you transport, tech, or supply assistance.”

Eziriel gently raps her knuckles on his helmet, getting him to look up before continuing, “Come on, do you really think I am foolish enough to think a Mandalorian needs defensive protection? And that I would be the top choice for that position?” She makes a soft scoffing noise from her lips to show her feelings for that scenario.

“Having transport backup would be nice, so I don’t have to haul the bounty all the way back to where I initially parked the ship,” he admits to her and stands back up to his full height.

“I do seem to thrive as your personal chauffeur. Maybe I should consider a career change,” she quips while turning her attention to the console to start closing the loading ramp and begin her ignition checklist. “Plug in the coordinates that Amarian sent you into the navigation.”

“I am sorry I disrespected your beliefs,” he says softly, ignoring her command. He lowers himself into the copilot seat keeping his helmet on her and she can feel the remorse in both his words. “That was a cruel thing to do. Especially since I know you are just trying to help.”

“Thank you,” she answers just as softly, almost taken aback at his genuine, eloquent apology.

“But,” he starts and she inwardly cringes waiting for another argument. “If there comes a moment where you cross paths with the target, you must listen to me.”

Eziriel looks at how he is leaning in her direction from his jumpseat. He is tense and while his anxiety over her coming has lessened dramatically, he is still nervous. He cares, at least somewhat, about what happens to her.

“I will,” she agrees and smiles at him. “Didn’t know you cared so much Lori. I think you are starting to like me.”

“I just don’t want to create a political incident by getting the princess killed,” he says with a dry tone before turning to put in the coordinates, and for the first time since they met, Eziriel reads a lie off of the Mandalorian.

════════════════════════════════════

Since they were flying with a smaller planet-side ship within the troposphere they were looking at a four-hour trip to get to the crash site in Ga’ladora’s Canyon. The Mandalorian wanted to inspect the site itself to see if he could glean anything that the Enforcers missed.

The first hour was spent planning, starting with potential drop spots from the most recent planetary scans. The bottom of the canyon of the area they were going is too unstable with its rocky foundation for the weight of the ship, but there were a few options where Eziriel could lower into the canyon enough to drop the Mandalorian on the speeder bike so long as there haven’t been any recent collapses of one of the stone pillars that litter the canyon floor with debris.

After solidifying the drop plan, she then shows him some of the options for landing to set up a base camp near where he will land. The closest one, and the agreed upon one, is miles away in a small meadow in the woods that the Mandalorian will have to take one of the steep trails out of the canyon to reach.

She then gives him a small lecture accompanied by a slideshow on her datapad of any flora and fauna that reside in the Forest of Ga’ladora that were dangerous and what to do if he sees one. She doesn't have to see his face to know that he rolled his eyes several times at her presentation, but she does know that he is smart enough to take her warnings to heart.

For the rest of the trip, they sit in the small cabin as Eziriel works through her backlog of project updates from her DefTech team while the Mandalorian sits cross-armed with his helmet pointed at the front viewscreen while some percussion focused music thumps quietly over the comm system. She doesn’t know if he is dozing or just staring out the window but she cannot figure out how he remains so very still for such a long time. She is trying to figure out how long it has been since he last moved when his borrowed comm beeps at him and he slightly flinches. Ahh, dozing then, she thinks with a small grin as he looks at the comm and sighs with a shake of his head.

“Your brother is nearly as irritating as you,” he remarks. “‘Hope you like your pilot, she was desperate to fulfill her council-mandated community service.’” She snorts at Amarian’s message spoken with the dry unimpressed tone of the Mandalorian.

“I am still the reigning terror, I hope,” she says with a smile at him.

“For now,” he concedes and sits up a little straighter in his seat to check the ETA til the drop point. She checks it as well and sees they are about half an hour out and that CHI will be notifying her to take control from them shortly.

She stands up and makes her way out of the cabin and into the drop bay. She double-checks the bag she packed for the Mandalorian is strapped tightly to the speeder bike. She doesn’t want him to lose it on the way down or while he is traveling.

“What’s that?” his voice calls out from behind her making her jolt at his unexpected following.

“I packed some provisions for you. Medkit, survival kit, bedroll, and seven days' worth of food,” she lists as she climbs up to sit sideways on the speeder bike. “I just wanted to give you the option of not having to come back to base camp each night, but you will be missing out on actual bunks,” she says as she points to one of the retracted bunks on the side of the drop bay.

“I appreciate your preparedness,” he says. “But I don’t need much on a hunt.”

“Better to have and not need,” she says with a shrug and then holds her hand out to him. “Your vambrace, please”

He is hesitant but turns to lean his hip against the speeder resting one arm behind her and holding out his other arm to her which she gently takes to lay across her lap. Turning her visor on she inspects the vambrace silently and clicks it on to see the user interface he deals with.

“I could have done that for you,” he chastises.

“This doesn’t allow long-range reception or communication, does it?” She asks, knowing the answer at seeing the hardware through his visor.

“No, only proximity-based,” he says and she hums at him and she opens her HolOmni to pull up local holomaps and her dangerous flora and fauna presentation to begin the data transfer between the two.

“I could fix that for you. Make it so you never have to carry a separate comm again. It’s very freeing,” she offers resting her arm against his while they watch the data load. “I could also make your analog interface into a holo projection interface if you’d like. I’m still perfecting the tactility of the holoform, but it’s pretty solid if you aren’t too aggressive. Give it a feel.”

She angles her arm at him and he lifts his arm from her lap and drags his finger across her menu screen of the HolOmni. She looks up at him to make a joke only to realize how intimately close they are. His chest almost touches her arm and his arm rests behind her in a position that is inches away from an embrace. She feels her neck heat up at the observation and hopes he is too focused on interacting with her HolOmni to notice. When he finally draws his attention back to her face she tries to give him a normal smile but there is a small catch of breath that his vocabulator doesn’t pick up but Eziriel barely hears.

“I think that it might be too nice for me,” he says in a quiet voice before lowering his arm down to place it back in her lap, but this time his hand rests on her thigh rather than hanging off awkwardly.

“You are allowed to want nice things,” she says just as quietly and she feels one of his fingers twitch. She tries to compose what to say next when her HolOmni beeps that the file transfer is done. They don’t pay any attention to it and just stare at each other, gauging one another for a few moments before the posh voice of CHI rings through the ship’s comms.

“We are ten minutes from the drop zone, I suggest you relieve me from autopilot.” Eziriel jerks at his voice and the Mandalorian pulls away.

“Right,” she says. “Saddle up Lori, you’ve got a fall ahead of you.” She gives him a grin and hops down from the bike trying to bury that intimate tension that filled the space only moments earlier with their familiar banter.

“I think I can handle that,” he says while mounting the bike as she makes it to the cabin door.

“Hey,” she catches his attention and he looks up at her. “Let the Will of fate guide your way.” He gives her a nod and she slips into the small cabin to begin their complex descent into Ga’ladora’s Canyon.

════════════════════════════════════

Eziriel had just landed after the successful drop-off and was about to start setting up base camp in the area they both agreed upon when the Mandalorian comms in for the first time.

“Change of plans,” he states suddenly into her earpiece.

“Already? It’s been, like, fifteen minutes?” she complains.

“I have a trail and it goes the opposite direction of where you plan to set up camp. I figured you’d want to at least be in the same direction I’m headed,” he explains. “The second location option is in the direction I’m headed if you want to go set up there.”

“Will do,” she confirms. The second location was much further out, but to the south of the canyon next to a small river with just enough space for the small skyship to land. “Amarian said the storm washed away all their tracks, what did you find?”

“Imperial pilots have protocols if they crash. They are to find the closest civilization to make a rescue call. If they cannot find civilization they are to head to the highest point to set up an emergency transponder,” he explains. “However, they are supposed to make discreet marks to show where they are going so they can be tracked by a rescue unit. You wouldn’t notice the marks unless you were specifically looking for them.”

“And you are a smart hunter who knows their prey,” Eziriel says with a smile. She gets the ship back in the air and can’t help but be impressed with him as he explains what he found. A small mark on the lower part of a nearby stone pillar. From that mark alone he was able to determine the initial direction the TIE pilot was headed six days prior.

“A good bounty hunter knows the target’s tactics,” he states simply once he is finished giving her his explanation.

“I guess you weren’t exaggerating when you said you were the best,” she says cheekily.

“I don’t exaggerate,” he says.

“I know you don’t,” she reassures.

════════════════════════════════════

That first night the Mandalorian surprisingly came back to base camp when it was getting late. They had been staying in touch here and there with him giving her updates and her asking him bounty-hunting questions. When night became fully dark he showed up at camp. He claimed he was close enough that it made sense to rest where she was already set up and had a proximity alert, but the way he groaned in relief at laying on the bunk below her told her the real reason was simply comfort and she was glad she could give him that.

The second day he was out as soon as the sun rose, nodding in acknowledgment at Eziriel’s sleepy goodbye wave. She spends most of the day powering through the rest of her reports and pestering the Mandalorian with little jokes and quips just to hear him sigh, but she swears she can hear a smile in that sigh. He spends the day giving her updates and sometimes talking to her about his thought process in tracking the TIE pilot. He eventually found bootprints his HUD could follow and it made his job easier since there weren’t other humanoid tracks to taint the trail. He doesn’t come back to base camp that day and Eziriel is somewhat disappointed to be spending an evening alone.

On the third day, she spends her time working on a few of her own projects while lounging on a rock by the small river trying to soak in the sun’s warm rays. She ends up asking him random questions today during his updates and she finds out that he thinks having favorite things is pointless. But after nagging him she discovers he prefers savory food over sweet, rural areas over city, and nights in over nights out. Even though he claimed he doesn’t have favorite things he was quick to tell her of his preferred weapons and their ideal situation to be used when she asked, and she had to stifle the laugh his brief enthusiasm caused.

During that third day, he deduces that the TIE pilot is headed towards the mountain range south of them to try and set up the emergency transponder. They discuss finding a new spot for her to move to in the direction he is headed, but off the path that he thinks the Imperial is taking. There were three options in the dense woods and she is unsure if some of the choices are still viable after that storm he arrived in.

“I’ll just check them out tomorrow afternoon to see which one works. I can send you the exact coordinates when I land to your comm so you can manually punch it in your vambrace holomap,” she tells him over comms while she eats her evening ration. She gives him an exaggerated sigh before continuing, “Really Lori, let me upgrade your set-up so people can just drop information to you directly. Imagine, no more carrying a separate comm to sync to your kit.”

“It’s never been a problem before,” he says and follows it with a groan of relief that Eziriel assumes is from getting off the bike for the night.

“Streamlining that process could very well save a life,” she states. “You don’t know how much you might need something like that until it’s too late.”

She can practically hear his eyes roll over the comms, before he goes on a small monologue about how he is perfectly fine without her advanced technology and doesn’t need it to be the best at his job. She just listens to his voice lecture her and smiles softly to herself as the moons crest overhead in the night sky.

<<  Chapter Ten

Chapter Twelve >>

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #fanfiction #din djarin fic #din djarin #din djarin x oc #din djarin x ofc #din #din djarin x original character #din djarin x original female character #man #mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian #mandalorian x original character #mandalorian x original female character #third #third person pov #third person perspective

[sleepingsun501]

#what pov do you prefer? #fanfics #fanfiction #oc fanfiction #oc #reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #self insert #self insert fanfiction #third person #third person pov #1st person pov #2nd person pov #3rd person pov

[chackyxyooj]

It Wasn’t Just a Dream

Spoiler Warning: Attack on Titan’s second part of season 4

Jean storms away from the campfire, his fists bloodied from beating Reiner’s face to a pulp. Of all the people to come looking for him, of course it was (Y/n) - one of the four Warriors who’d betrayed Paradis. What better time to have a heart-to-heart talk with your enemy than when the world is about to end?

__________________________________________________

What does it mean to be brave?

The definition of bravery is someone who’s ready to face and endure danger or pain; it’s defined as a show of courage. That is the most common perception of bravery, but is that all it means to be brave? Of course this definition is sufficient, but one can’t help but wonder if they really are brave. One can’t help but ask if they truly display bravery.

Someone who sleeps with the lights on might consider someone who sleeps with them off, brave. People who are afraid of spiders take someone who can kill a spider as brave, but people who keep spiders as pets are deemed crazy. Where is the line between the two?

What is the difference between being perceived as brave and being perceived as a fool?

This question was a familiar one for Jean. Back in his youth, he often wondered what bravery was. He believed he knew what it meant to be a coward, but that didn’t necessarily mean he knew what it meant to be brave.

There was once a time where Jean equated honesty with bravery. To speak your mind bluntly without being scared of another person’s judgement had certainly seemed brave to the young soldier - especially since he was someone who wasn’t afraid to say what he wanted.

In his youth, Jean considered himself brave because he wasn’t afraid to admit when something seemed ridiculous or outlandish. Everyone in the 104th Cadet Corps knew of Jean. He was the one who ‘courageously’ declared that he would be joining the Military Police as soon as he graduated. Unlike the people who were set on joining the Survey Corps, Jean was working hard to earn a life of luxury. He believed that being scared of death didn’t make him a coward, it made me smart. Maybe the praise from his peers went to his head, but for a while Jean really considered himself as brave.

An honest person can certainly be brave, but being honest didn’t always imply bravery.

After seeing Titans with his very own eyes, Jean once again began to question what it really meant to be brave. Honest words weren’t going to drive away the Titans. He wondered if being brave was putting your life on the line for others, but risking your life so someone else could live had seemed stupid. Why would anyone risk their own well being for someone else? It hadn’t made any sense to the young and naive Jean.

Maybe in the eyes of others, risking their life was a way to prove something - to prove that they were above others enough to put their lives on the line. Yet in Jean’s opinion, it only felt like they were brave enough to do something as stupid as die for nothing.

Putting your life on the line is certainly brave, but it’s really only perceived as brave when it’s your life for the many.

In both of these cases, and for a majority of his life, Jean considered bravery to be someone who goes out of their comfort zone. It wasn’t always something as extreme as sprinting into battle to pull a comrade out of the line of fire, but it was something new. Doing something that you wouldn’t have done before or that he himself could not do was what he thought bravery was.

When Jean was someone who hid behind the goals of joining the Military Police, he considered himself as brave. When he was stranded in the middle of Titan infested streets and only Mikasa stepped up to fight them, he considered her brave.

So what about now? What does it mean to be brave?

Jean’s eyes traced the outline of the fire. It cracked as it crumbled under his gaze. He sighed before taking another log and quickly dropping it across the surface of his fire. It was the last of what he’d gathered before. He knew he’d have to go and gather some more eventually, but right now, all he wanted to do was rest. He didn’t want to have to think about… anything really.

Tonight was a particularly cold night. A cold night for a regular human like him, anyway. He’d heard from Armin that Titan Shifters have a higher body temperature than regular people. It was strange though. For some reason, he felt like he knew this even before Armin told him.

The memory was more like… a dream.

That night had been a cold one too. Jean couldn’t recall what his room looked like, or how the moon had looked, or even what time it had been, but he remembered that it had been the day before Annie’s capture. Is that why he remembered it?

Was he remembering a night like this because of the similarities it had to this one? What a joke. He knew for a fact that he was remembering because of her. It was always her.

“Kirstein? Are you still awake?”

Speak of the devil and thou shall appear.

Jean leaned against a tree for a while. He hoped that (Y/n) would make a decision on her own accord, but she didn’t. She didn’t attempt to leave nor sit. She didn’t even try to check whether or not Jean was sleeping. If Jean waited long enough, she might leave. Then again, she might stand there all night. But alas, Jean was the one to break first.

With a deep sigh, Jean replied. “If I say no, would you leave me alone?”

“Wouldn’t it be cruel for me to leave you while you’re lonely?”

“I’m not lonely.”

“But you are alone.” (Y/n) placed a small pile of dry wood beside Jean before sitting down beside it. Both of them were quiet for a while. (Y/n) was content with this, but Jean was not as content as her.

To say Jean felt conflicted about working alongside the Warriors would be an understatement. Even before he knew that basically all of the Warriors were responsible for Marco’s death, teaming up with the Warriors wasn’t something he would’ve imagined. They were the reason for so much death. It wasn’t even limited to Paradis! It was everywhere. He’d seen it with his own eyes.

How could she sit beside him right now? How had she ever sat beside him knowing all of the things that she had done? How could Jean let himself sit beside her now, knowing the things that he had done?

(Y/n) picked up one of the small kindling she had brought and slowly placed it across the fire. Steam rose from the girl’s hand as she pulled it away, but her face showed no signs of discomfort.

“Didn’t that hurt?” Jean wondered.

“I’ve gotten used to the pain. We all have.” replied the Crystal Shifter. She held her hand up for Jean to see, and he watched as the steaming parts of her hand turned from red back to their natural hue. “You know, the punches you threw at Reiner were pretty ruthless. If you had used that kind of force with anyone other than a Titan Shifter, they likely would’ve died.”

Jean turned away. He didn’t feel like taking a lecture from anyone right now. Especially not from (Y/n). “Why are you here, (Y/n)?”

“Why do you think I’m here?”

“To make sure I’m not contacting Floch or something? I don’t know.”

“That is a valid reason, but no. I have no reason to suspect you of working alongside Floch. Even if I did, I have no right to tell you what is and isn’t right.”

“That still doesn’t answer my question.”

“Which was?”

Jean leaned back and gave (Y/n) a look as if to say ‘really?’

The girl chuckled to herself before meeting Jean’s gaze. “I came out here to make sure you were okay. Do you see me as such a manipulative person that you assume I have ulterior motives for checking up on one of my comrades?”

“A comrade, huh?” Jean teased. “Not even a friend anymore?”

“Did you want me to consider you a friend, Kristien?”

“Not really, but it’s… complicated. I’m definitely not the same kind of comrade the Warriors are to you, but I’m also not the same as Armin or Connie.”

“And how did you come to that conclusion?”

“Well for starters, you’ve already gone back to calling Armin and Connie by their first names, but not me. As a matter of fact, I’m the only person who you refer to by last name. Did I do something to you to deserve this?”

(Y/n) pursed her lips, her gaze back on the fire instead of Jean. How frustrating. But it’s always been that way with (Y/n), hasn’t it?

Before anyone knew about traitors or Titan Shifters, life had been simpler. Jean had been a boy who was constantly vying for the (h/c)ette’s attention just like everyone else. Unfortunately for him, his best friend was Marco. Now, Marco was as good of a friend as anyone would hope to have. Sometimes Jean considered himself lucky for having someone like Marco be his friend in the first place, but things weren’t very cut and dry.

Marco and Jean had been infatuated with (Y/n). (Y/n) had been drawn towards Marco. There was no room for Jean in that scenario. It was just him, watching someone he liked show interest in his best friend. It was almost pitiful how each time he’d manage to steal (Y/n)’s attention, Marco would inevitably take center stage.

Marco wasn’t a malicious guy, and Jean knew that well, but every time it happened Jean could only be frustrated with himself. It’s probably why (Y/n) had been drawn towards the freckled boy in the first place. Both of them were people who wore their hearts on their sleeves. Jean was someone who kept his heart under lock and key. Jean had never stopped liking (Y/n), but he was smart enough to know when to back off.

Sometime between Marco’s death and (Y/n)’s betrayal, everything changed. Obviously (Y/n) had lost people who she had been close to, but she always had a distant look in her eyes. She was always searching for something that no one else could see.

That was really the worst part of it all - falling in love with someone who wasn’t really there.

Something that was a cross between a laugh and a sigh suddenly escaped from Jean. He couldn’t even tell what he had wanted it to be, either. “Doesn’t tonight remind you of back when we were cadets? Or, I guess back then we were rookie Scouts.”

“I don’t really know what you’re getting at.”

“The night before we captured Annie. How I joked about you sleeping in the same bed as me, and then you did. It feels so long ago, you know?”

(Y/n) glanced at Jean, letting him catch the curious expression which rested on her features. It was curiosity and nothing more - not even a hint of familiarity.

“What about that other time?” questioned Jean. “It was around the time we were preparing to head to Shiganshina. I was throwing up in the bathroom at night, but then you showed up and we talked. You remember that, don’t you?”

“Well…”

“And what about tonight?”

“What about it?”

“Are you going to forget tonight like all of those other nights before it?” Jean sighed. He knew he was just taking shots in the dark, but he wanted it to be true. “You know, everyone I tell those things to say that I was probably mistaken - even you told me I was crazy at one point, but I really do remember it happening.”

“I’m not saying that I remember any of those things happening with clarity, but I won’t say whether or not they’ve actually occurred. I have so many different memories swimming around in this head of mine that I might mistake one of my predecessor’s memories for my own, but I also don’t think you’d lie. You’re not that kind of person.” (Y/n)’s expression seemed softer in the light of the fire. Perhaps at this moment her expression was softer, but Jean wasn’t sure.

“So then… what kind of person am I?”

“You’re honest, and empathetic. Kind with an almost naive outlook on life. And don’t get me started on how you wear your heart on your sleeve.” (Y/n) picked up another piece of wood and placed it in the fire. When she finished, she looked at Jean with a soft smile. “And you’re brave.”

“Brave?” repeated Jean. “I don’t think I’m a very brave person.”

“And what do you consider ‘bravery’ to be?”

“Being brave is being able to endure pain and having courage in general.”

“And that’s what you believe bravery is?”

“Well… not entirely.” Jean pulls on the sleeves of his jacket as he meets the (h/c)ette’s gaze. “I’ve actually never known what bravery is. I mean, I know what it is in general, but it’s never meant anything significantly different from what anyone else believes it is.”

“I see.” (Y/n) turns away from Jean, and the boy can feel his shoulders relax. “I believe that bravery is a combination of a lot of things, but two things specifically come to mind. Since the most obvious opposite of bravery is fear, I believe that part of being brave is to act in spite of fear. Don’t get me wrong, fear is a natural survival instinct so just acting out instead of being scared is not what I consider brave. It’s more like… stepping up to a challenge, even if you don’t think you can do it. Kind of like when you chose to join the Survey Corps instead of the Military Police.”

“And the other thing?”

“The other fundamental core I associate with bravery is having the strength to do what is necessary. Obviously my views have been skewed from growing up in a world that wanted me to be a perfect tool, but my views of bravery are far from what they taught was brave. Gabi, Falco and Emanon are naive and maybe a bit stupid at times, but I also believe that they’re brave. Becoming a Warrior is depicted as a selfless act because you’re dedicating yourself to Marley, but protecting others is what actually makes it a selfless act. I guess I’d call it necessary justice. Though, it’s taken me a long time to understand what ‘necessary’ is.”

“And what’s necessary to you?”

(Y/n) suddenly grinned, catching Jean off guard. “I didn’t realise you were so eager to learn about this kind of thing. I thought I was talking your ear off.”

“Not really. I’ve always wondered what it means to be brave, so knowing what you consider brave is… refreshing? I don’t even know what I’m saying.” Jean looked up at the sky through the gaps in the branches and leaves. “I feel like I’m having an out of body experience.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I feel like I’m experiencing deja vu. Here I am, after four years of hating you, talking to you like we’ve been friends all this time! It doesn’t feel right.”

“And what would feel right?”

“I don’t know. Fighting with you? Hating you again? It just feels unfair for me to be sitting here with you while Eren is… about to crush the world for us.”

“Why do you think Eren is crushing the world for you guys?”

“You do realise that we’re talking about the guy who, at age 15, was going to kill every single Titan with his own two hands. Now he’s using Titans to crush the whole world. It’s such a messed up turn of events.”

“Isn’t that why we’re going to stop him? Because it’s messed up and unfair?”

“Why are you doing that? Why do you keep answering my questions with more questions?” Jean ran his fingers through his hair impatiently. It seemed his body wanted to know the answer more than his mind, and the only way to speed up the process was to keep moving. He knew it wouldn’t, but boy, what he would’ve done to get a straight answer right now.

The Crystal Shifter tilted her head, “would you prefer I answer your questions a different way?”

“Of course.”

“And how would you like me to answer instead?”

Jean scoffed, “with answers, obviously.”

“Is it really that obvious?”

Of course it was obvious. Questions were supposed to be answered with answers. Heck, answers were so important that even unanswered questions, like rhetorical questions, were questions with implied responses. At this point, continuing with the conversation seemed redundant.

Jean knew better than anyone that the person sitting beside him was no longer who he had once known. But oh, how her eyes shone with the same warmth he’d always known them to have. She no longer hid her eyes behind the cold blue of her Crystals. Now they were back to what they had once been. After four years of being perceived as a monster, she was here as the human she’d once been.

Or maybe she’d always been human, but Jean had convinced himself otherwise.

How cruel of him.

Jean was back to tracing the fire with his eyes. He was back to thinking about anything and everything. He wondered if he would’ve been better off telling (Y/n) to leave him alone, or if coming out here was the right thing to do at all.

“Sometimes I wonder what life would’ve been like for me if I had stayed in Paradis instead of going back to Marley.” Confessed (Y/n). “I wonder what would’ve changed if I’d been able to save Mina, or if I hadn’t helped the other Warriors kill Marco. I really don’t think I was strong enough to make a difference, but still… people like us can’t help but wonder.”

“What do you mean ‘people like us?’”

“I’m not lumping you in with the rest of us Warriors, if that’s what you’re asking. Rather, people like us are people who have the strength to cause change. I know for a fact that not everyone agrees with the idea of Eren crushing the world; there are even people in Paradis who are against the idea, but those people cannot change anything. It’s not their fault that they don’t have the fundamentals required, but that also doesn’t mean that they can’t change things. It’s just… different.”

“I hate to admit it, but for a while I was genuinely considering siding with Floch and living a luxurious life within the walls. I guess old habits die hard.”

“To be fair, no one really wants to be the villain. As someone who has been forced to fight dozens of battles, I’m sure that many people have depicted me and the other Warriors as villains. I guess the craziest thing about it all is that at the end of the day, Warriors are deemed heroes because Marley is the nation that gets the final say in things.”

“Isn’t that just the kind of world we live in? The world is a place where winners are the ones who get to tell the story, not the losers.” Once again, Jean found himself leaning back and gazing at (Y/n). He didn’t like how he kept looking back at her. “Hey, I’m sorry for hurting Emanon.”

“It’s nice that you’re apologising, but you really should apologise to her and not me.”

“I know, and I will. It’s just that the two of you are really close so…”

(Y/n) hummed, acknowledging Jean as his sentence trailed away. “I’m sorry I didn’t try harder to save Marco. I knew he was your best friend but still couldn’t-”

“No, I get it. It was Marco or the Warriors. There really wasn’t much competition, was there?”

“Not when the Warriors tried so hard to get me to remember them, no. Every single one of them has been there for me. It wouldn’t be fair for me to just toss them aside and let them fend for themselves.”

“What was it like to grow up with them in…?”

“The Warrior Program?” (Y/n) sighed to herself for a moment. “It wasn’t all rainbows and sunshine, that’s for sure. It was like going through the Cadet Corps training but three times harder while also being three times younger. Kids like us grew up training and fighting. It was a twisted relationship where we were friends, comrades and rivals all at the same time. But that was our way of life. It was all we’d ever known.”

“You guys seem alright. I mean, that newest generation of Warriors isn’t half bad.”

“Yeah, but it isn’t half good either. Our generation and their generation has always been referred to as adequate. Our individual skills are all there, but none of us are really ‘leader’ material. It’s probably the main reason why our mission to Paradis fell apart so quickly. We were tools. We weren’t able to think for ourselves or make proper decisions. We were just… kids.”

The Crystal Shifter picked up a piece of kindling and picked at it. “Annie and Pieck have always followed orders. Bertholdt was too timid to really step up and lead the group which was what made him such a perfect vessel for Titan powers in the first place. Porco was a good fighter, but he was always comparing himself to his older brother - the one who was supposed to lead our mission on Paradis. Zeke is… well, you already know what Zeke’s done.”

“What about you and Reiner?”

“I’ve always cared for Reiner. When he was a kid he was pretty soft spoken. He has always wanted to do what he thinks is best. Unfortunately for him, he grew a proper conscience; as a matter of fact, we all did. It was different for all of us, but one day the things we were doing caught up to us. We knew the things we were doing weren’t the right things to do, but we also didn’t have a choice in the matter. We simply had to keep moving forward with our lives because, well, why else would we be living?”

“You saying that kind of reminds me of Eren.”

“Well yeah. I probably inadvertently picked it up from him. I understand where he’s coming from and why he feels like crushing the world is the only way forward, but that doesn’t mean I think it’s right. I’m not trying to become a martyr or a hero by opposing him, either. I’m just trying to live.” (Y/n) stood up and dusted off her pants.

“You’re going now?” asked Jean.

“I want to make sure Emanon is okay. She’s been through a lot in the past few days, so I want to be there for her.”

“And Reiner?”

“What about Reiner?”

“Do you care for him, too?”

(Y/n) smiled at Jean, placing the kindling she’d been picking at in the boy’s hands. “I always end up saying way more than I mean to when I talk to you. Did you know that?”

“Not enough, apparently.” Jean mumbled, earning a short laugh from the girl.

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

“How do you know I’ll come back?”

(Y/n) shot one last glance at Jean over her shoulder. “Because you’re someone who’ll do what he thinks is right.”

Jean listened to the Shifter’s footsteps as she disappeared into the night. A part of him wanted to go back to the others right now, but he knew better than to return in his current state of mind. Once again, he was reduced to tracing the outline of the fire on his own.

The wood (Y/n) had handed Jean was warmer than his own hands. Despite how the Crystal Shifter had been feeding the fire, its glow was rather dim.

How could she be so certain about him? How could (Y/n) be so sure that he would return tomorrow when even he wasn’t sure about returning? Was he simply that predictable? Jean liked to think that he’s significantly changed in the past four years, but his conversation with (Y/n) felt like any other conversation he might have had with her before. But was that really a bad thing?

Jean held the wood overtop of the flames. Even if some vindictive part of himself wanted to prove the Crystal Shifter wrong, he knew that there would be no merit in it - not that he was doing things for the merit. If he was going to go back, he was going back because it was the right thing to do.

In that moment, as embers from the fire landed on the piece of wood in his hands, Jean once again wondered what it meant to be brave.

Was it honesty? Going outside of your comfort zone, or acting in spite of fear? Or was it, perhaps, something as simple as having the strength to do what was necessary? Jean didn’t think he could say which of these it might be, let alone what else might contribute to bravery, but he did know that it was okay to be unsure.

Jean dropped the piece of wood he held into the fire. It was a pretty cold night, and he didn’t want to catch a cold before tomorrow.

#third person pov #jean kirschtien #jean kirschtein x reader #fluff #aot x reader #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #attack on titan x reader #jean x reader #Chapter from my work Allies and Enemies #can be read as a standalone #aka #can be read as a oneshot

[rnacreative]

The rain pelts swiftly against the window. She remembers where she was a year ago. As if the sky has opened up to mourn the past with her.

The end of a relationship. The end of a different time.

She knows it was for the best, but she can always recognize how much work it was to get to where she is.

She turned 30 only to have it ruined after the most relaxing vacation and time away. Sinking into herself, her 30s were already off to a great start. The rain knows those tears shed.

Work and being harassed by an ex, what else to add?

A new diagnosis and struggle with mental health.

There is always something about this time of year that leads to such introspection.

Breakups, moves, drama, car issues, her thrice removed ex for being suicidal and staying on suicide watch, or stuck living in a fake family who thrived on secrets. The list grows with each passing year, but as the list grows, so does she.

No matter the journey or drama, she somehow pulls herself from the rubble, finding a path forward. It's a feat of wonder that leaves her to believe she can do anything she sets her mind to.

The path forward is one of dreams she hopes to give herself. As life hasn't been easy, and while she's empathetic, she's consciously aware.

Just what awaits her past the rainy gray skies? Will it get better or continue to be a rollercoaster?

The rain knows.

#writers of tumblr #randomwrites #writing #emotions #heartache #raw truth #writers #healing #female writers #thoughts #creative writing #third person pov #pov #ramblings #writerscommunity

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Library of Ashes

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: Jason takes an interest in the family business (Gotham’s oldest library) when he stumbles upon a secret collection of journals, photo albums, and a book written by his mother.

Chapters: 1/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Kate Kane, Barbara Gordon, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown, Lonnie Machin, Original Character(s)

Relationships: Jason Todd/Original Character(s)

Additional Tags: Library AU, No Capes AU, World Travel, Jason Todd-centric, Third Person POV, Hurt Jason Todd, Jason Todd Has Issues, Angst, Mystery, Mentioned Catherine Todd, Mentioned Willis Todd, Mentioned Sheila Haywood, Claustrophobic Jason Todd

Chapter One: Fresh From Belize

The car hit a bump in the road, and Jason took a sharp inhale, removing his glasses. He ran a hand over his face, staring out the window at the foggy city. “How long ya visitin’ for?” the driver questioned.

“I live here,” Jason mumbled as he checked the time on his phone. “I’ve been abroad for the past five years.”

“Oh yeah?” the driver questioned. “Where’d you go?”

“Costa Rica, Madagascar, Italy… You name it,” Jason answered, “I fished for a few months in Iceland, worked in a restaurant in Northern Italy, and taught a salsa class in Japan.”

“Sounds like you lived a full life,” the driver replied. Jason nodded.

The air smelled the same. Piss, water, and chemicals. Jason wrinkled his nose. “You got a home to go to?” the driver questioned as he pulled in front of the Gotham library. It was a four-story building as ornate as it was tall. Its stained glass windows, large doorways, and a garden that seemed unphased by time itself.

“Unfortunately, yes… Thanks for the ride,” Jason replied as he unbuckled his seatbelt. “You mind popping the trunk for me?”

The driver popped the trunk, and Jason stepped out, grabbed his bag, and thanked the man for picking him up from the airport. Stretching his arms and legs as he entered the library, he took his glasses from his pocket, pushing them up the bridge of his nose. Jason hadn’t told anyone he was back in Gotham. Not that he expected a warm welcome. Bruce stood in the children’s area, mingling with parents over hot cocoa and cookies. He wore a turtleneck and almost looked like a family man. Almost… If he hadn’t been flirting with one of the single mothers in the group. Jason scoffed as he attempted to sneak past the front desk to the staircase. He nearly made it to the staircase before Bruce sped over. “Jason? Is that you?” Bruce questioned. Jason stopped in his tracks, his back turned to his father as he nodded solemnly.

“Can I get settled in upstairs before we fight?” Jason mumbled. Bruce grabbed his arm.

“I don’t wanna fight, Jason… Can we-? Do you wanna talk?” Bruce asked. “Where’ve you been?”

Jason sighed. “Can’t we skip the niceties and fight, so I could finish unpacking and get something to eat?” Jason questioned. Bruce held on. “Okay... We can talk, but I’m gonna unpack and order in.”

“Okay,” Bruce replied, following him to the fourth floor. “Nobody’s lived here in over a year… So, it might be a little-.” Jason knocked on the bricks in the wall until he found the loose one. He pulled it out and took the key to unlock the door.

“I bet you didn’t change anything… You even kept the key in the same-.” Jason turned the light on, and his heart dropped into his stomach. “What the fuck is this?”

Jason walked straight toward the pegboard in the center of the room. “Jason, I needed to know you weren’t-. I-.”

“I sent a postcard on your birthday,” Jason interrupted as he took the sticky notes off the board.

“Once,” Bruce replied through clenched teeth.

Jason took his backpack off and set his things nicely on the table. A silk cloth, a toothbrush, a bar of soap, a hairbrush, a new box of toothpaste, a pocket-sized journal, a pen, and a portable cassette player. “Cool, so are we fighting now?” Jason snapped. Bruce shook his head.

“I missed you… For half a decade, I agonized over your loss-.”

Jason pulled a single pair of pajamas from his bag. “I ran out on you… I didn’t die. Don’t think I could’ve made that clearer in the postcard,” Jason mumbled.

Bruce sat in the easy chair, staring at him. “You’re parting your hair there again,” Bruce whispered, “Like when you were a little boy-.”

“Uh-huh… Well… I’m not a little boy, Bruce. Does the phone up here still work?” Jason questioned. Bruce nodded. Jason stood up and grabbed the house phone from the kitchen. He stood at the kitchen island, dragging the numbers in the old rotary phone.

“Welcome to Pretty Pauletta’s, where the pizza’s always perfect and the party never stops. Can I take your order?” a woman answered.

“Uh, yeah… Can I get the special with everything on it, a side of fries and a Coke?” Jason replied.

“Diet? Cherry-?”

“Regular, thanks… Bruce, do you want something?” Jason asked casually without making eye contact.

“No, thank you, Jason,” Bruce whispered. Jason could hear the defeat in Bruce’s voice. It wouldn’t be long before Bruce walked out. Jason recited his payment information and thanked the woman before hanging up. “Where did you come from?”

“Belize. I was only there for a few months,” Jason replied.

Bruce nodded, staring intently at Jason. "You look good," Bruce complimented, "You've got color in your cheeks again…"

"Did I ever have any color in my cheeks here?" Jason asked. Bruce chewed his lip. "Are you gonna have a problem with me staying up here?"

"On the contrary, I want you to stay… On one condition," Bruce replied.

"I don't give a shit about this library, Bruce-."

"You work here, and I'll let you live here for free as long as you like. And I'll unfreeze your trust fund-."

"I don't give a shit about my trust fund," Jason interrupted as he hung his jacket up. "There's nothing you could say to convince me to work-."

"I won't call or visit unless you ask me to," Bruce replied. Jason screwed up his face. "Do we have a deal?"

"Not so much as a pleasant hello?" Jason asked. Bruce shook his head. "Fine." Bruce shook his hand. "Deal starts tomorrow. You look like you've got questions." It was his attempt at being cordial.

“Why’d you come back?” Bruce questioned.

“I don’t know… I got stabbed in Belize, and somewhere in between the two weeks I spent in some random hospital fighting infection and coming home to find out a water pipe burst in my apartment, and I was fired from my job while at the hospital,” Jason answered. “I don’t think I’ll stay, though.”

“How long were you in Belize?” Bruce asked.

Jason opened the cabinets. “A few months,” Jason replied, “Three. Maybe four…”

“TV works… Sometimes I come up here to watch the news,” Bruce mumbled. Jason turned the tv on.

Bruce leaned forward and ran a hand through his hair. Jason couldn’t relax to sit down, so he unpacked his suitcase. After ten minutes of uninterrupted silence, someone rang the doorbell. “Sure, you don’t want any pizza?” Jason questioned. Bruce shook his head. Jason tipped the delivery man and took his food to the coffee table.

“Why didn’t you call home when you got stabbed?” Bruce questioned.

Jason shrugged as he ate. “It wasn’t the worst thing that’s happened to me in five years,” Jason replied, “I hope you don’t mind. I haven’t eaten since yesterday.” He devoured his pizza and fries before tidying up.

“I should let you get to sleep,” Bruce whispered. Jason nodded. Bruce stood up and reached to mess up Jason’s hair. Jason flinched away. “Right… Goodbye, Jason.”

“Bye, Bruce,” Jason replied. Bruce let himself out, and Jason hid his face in his hands. “I shouldn’t have come here...”

He allowed himself to breathe before unfolding a blanket from the linen closet and setting up a hammock in the corner of the living room. After his shower, he curled up in his hammock and let the gentle rocking of the hammock lull him to sleep.

#fic #library of ashes fic #batfam #Jason Todd #Kate Kane #Barbara Gordon #Dick Grayson #Bruce Wayne #Tim Drake #Stephanie Brown #Lonnie Machin #Original Character(s) #Library AU #No Capes AU #World Travel #Jason Todd-centric #Third Person POV #Hurt Jason Todd #Jason Todd Has Issues #Angst #Mystery #Mentioned Catherine Todd #Mentioned Willis Todd #Mentioned Sheila Haywood #Claustrophobic Jason Todd #Jason Todd/Original Character(s)

[angelwiththeblue-box]

the intersection got a target (and they're calling it downtown)

i.e the small town mission creek fic that no one asked for!!

4,469 words | rated t | tw for blood mentions, scars | ao3 link

dndfanatic69 @ 2:41 pm 

just heard donald davenport is moving to mc!!! does he know theres nothing here???? 

roguevampire @ 3:01 pm 

lolllllll maybe well get a starbucks finally

Mission Creek has a population of 8,000, but it feels much smaller. 

Leo Dooley grows up going to school with the same people that he’s known since he was five. He was aware of who Donald Davenport is long before his mom went on a Tinder date with him. 

He thought he was a bit of a douche, if he was being. Donald Davenport and the other rich people that build their houses on the hill overlooking the rest of the town forcing the property value to rise. 

eattherich @ 10:52 am 

If my taxes are raised one more time I’m burning down Davenport’s house 

wannaberoses @ 11:29 am 

ill help !

read more

#eli writes #lab rats #lab rats fanfiction #leo dooley #pov leo dooley #third person pov #small town fic #mission creek #twitter fic #kinda #canon compliant #blood tw #team as family #good sibling relationship #fanfic #ao3