#well known for being a friendly guy cursed to be alive | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

clouditae · 3 years

Text

Slow. Dirty. Wet.

banner maker: @joheunsaram

word: 5.5k

part of the hot boy summer collab

When Seokjin stops by your convenience store to buy his typical snacks, he’s such a friendly and funny person. When you stop by the beta tau sigma’s car wash, he’s a completely different person, and inside the office of that car wash, he shows you how different he really is

“Good morning, Y/N,” Seokjin says, the bell ringing as he opens the door, the bell ringing once more as the door closes behind him. “Having a good morning I hope,” he adds, smiling his typical huge smile as he walks down the second aisle where his favorite bag of chips will be. He usually stands in front of the variety of chips looking, as if he’s deciding on which one he wants the most when he always chooses the same one.

You check the time on the computer screen in front of you; fifteen past eleven. “Good morning,” you reply, eyes traveling back to him as he makes his way to the back of the store for his Sprite.

He makes his way over towards you at the front, eyes scanning other foods he might want to buy as well. As usual, he takes nothing and stops in front of the counter, placing his items in front of you. You grab the chips first, showing the barcode to the scanner, hearing a beep before going for the Sprite.

“Easy day?” he asks, fishing in his pocket for his wallet most likely.

“So far,” you answer, handing him back his snacks for the day. You tell him the price and add, “Heading to class?”

He gives a happy smile as he replies, “Got canceled, so I’m heading towards the carwash.”

You frown in confusion, opening the cash register to put the money in. “Carwash?”

It’s his turn to frown. “You haven’t heard? My frat is having a carwash to keep our philanthropy alive.” Seokjin shrugs. “Seven good looking guys washing your car? Win-win situation for all.”

You can’t help but laugh. The Beta Tau Sigma is very well known at the university; very popular with everyone. You either want to be them, or you want to be with them. Some just want to have sex with them. Overall, they’re like the popular boys in high school, and you just happen to see one of them almost every day when he comes into the little convenient store to buy his chips and sprite at exactly fifteen past eleven.

You’re not going to deny the fact that he is very good looking—you see what everyone is talking about. His tall figure, charming smile, and dark chocolate eyes that can make you feel all types of things. When he squints his eyes just a bit, tilting his head as he listens to you talk, it makes you want him. It’s strange to you if you’re being honest. Seokjin is such a kind, friendly person, so the fact that just a simple gesture—which is meant to be friendly—makes you want him is just ridiculous.

He’s a nice person. That’s all you need to know. “Good luck on your carwash,” you comment.

He opens his mouth then closes it before finally answering, “Thanks. See you later!” And with that, he grabs his items and exits the store.

When you see him again, it’s a few days later. You didn’t have to come in to work for a few days, so you haven’t seen Seokjin around. You don’t even see him on campus, so you only see him when you’re working.

He enters the store and walks straight up to you rather than go towards the back to grab his usual. He stops in front of the counter and looks at you with such determined eyes it catches you off guard. You’ve never seen this look before. What is he going to say? Did you do something wrong the last time you two saw one another?

“Would you like to go out on a date one day?” he suddenly asks, definitely catching you off guard this time.

It’s silent between the two of you for a moment before you reply, “What?”

He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, eyes looking at anything but you now. “Do you wanna go on a date?”

You open your mouth to respond, but your head is still processing his words. “You want to go on a date… with me?” You thought that your reply would be more of a statement rather than a question, but you can hear it as clear as day that you’re questioning his choice as if you’re the worst option out of the list.

Not the best thought, but in this moment, your thoughts went straight to the negative.

And it seems Seokjin is just as confused as you are because he frowns and says, “Why did you say it like that?”

You shrug in response. “It’s just... I never thought that someone like you would want to go on a date with me. We’re basically strangers and I’m sure there are a lot of other people who have similar interests as you, as well as know them.”

“I know you and I have different tastes, and we only see each other here, but I would like to take you out on a date and get to know you more,” he tells you, basically throwing your comment out the window. A statement that tells you that no matter the difference, there’s always a chance that opposites attract. “So, what do you say? Would you like to go out some time?” he finishes.

You’re silent for a moment, a debate going on in your head as to whether he’s serious or not. If you want to go on a date with him or not. Should you? Do you? You can’t deny that it’s a hard decision. On one hand, you can’t deny there’s a small attraction to him, and on the other hand, you don’t know him really well. At all, really, but almost everyone who dates doesn't know each other in the beginning. That’s the whole point in finding “the one”.

“Sure,” you finally answer, heat rising on your cheeks as he smiles brightly at you.

“Great,” he begins, “how about this Friday? I’ll pick you up at your dorm building?”

“Okay. Friday.”

“Seven?” he asks.

“Seven,” you confirm, giving him a single nod.

Seokjin doesn’t go to the back to grab his usual items. He simply waves and leaves the store. When you see him again, it’s three days later when he comes to pick you up for your date. You spent almost the whole day trying to find the perfect outfit. Eventually, after much debate, you choose a rose colored shirt and light blue jeans. Looks cute, but also looks casual so you’re not overdoing it in case he’s not looking for something too fancy.

Quickly slipping on your shoes, you grab your bag, phone and keys, and leave your dorm room, speed walking down the hall and towards the exit door. When you step outside, you’re immediately met with Seokjin.

He greets you with a smile, and butterflies erupt in your stomach. You’re honestly surprised by the feeling. You’ve never felt a feeling like this before with him. Maybe you just never noticed? It’s hard to not notice a fluttering feeling in your stomach, or your heart beating so fast that it worries you. But right now you’re going to ignore all these lingering questions because you just want to experience this date to its fullest. You honestly want to experience all the rumors you hear when it comes to going on a date with Seokjin.

There are tons of rumors: Seokjin is such a romantic. Seokjin is so polite and funny. Seokjin is such a sweet lover in bed—then there’s rumors about him being so rough and dominating in bed that those rumors are so hard to believe. He’s not that type of guy.

But you want to see everything the rumors say about him.

“You look amazing,” he says, sticking his arm out towards you.

You can’t stop the smile growing on your lips as you reply, “Thank you. You look amazing, too.” He’s wearing black pants with a white shirt tucked in, black derby shoes and a midnight blue coat that stops at the middle of his thigh. His light brown hair parting more at the side rather than the middle. He looks like a model.

He chuckles. “Thank you.” Looping your arm through his, he leads you towards the parking lot where his car is waiting. “I’m excited for our date,” he confesses, side eyeing you with what seems like a light blush crossing his cheeks.

You can’t help but shyly smile as you agree, “So am I.”

“First I’m taking you to this amazing place for dinner…”

The first date was absolutely amazing. It’s everything you could have imagined, and everything the rumors said about him. He’s such a gentleman and such a romantic, so when he asked you out for a second date, you agreed almost immediately. He laughed at how quick your answer was and you felt so embarrassed, but you had your second date and your third.

“You should tell your friends about our carwash,” Seokjin tells you as he places his usual chips and drink on the counter for you to scan.

“Tomorrow’s your last day right?” you ask him, taking the items and scanning it.

“Yup. We’ve been doing really well with raising money, but we’re trying to get as many people as we can to come by. We need as much money as we can for our philanthropy.”

You nod, handing back his items as he hands you the exact change. “I’ll let them know,” you tell him, opening the cash register to place the money inside.

“You can come by, too, if you want,” he begins, your eyes traveling up to him as you close the register, his eyes looking down at his items, “We have two types of treatments for your car. They'll do the fast, clean and dry way, but for you"—he looks over towards you, eyes dark and tempting—"I'll be doing the slow, dirty and wet treatment in the office.” You’re blushing immensely, heart racing at an alarming speed, and Seokjin only shrugs at your response. “After our last date, I can’t help but offer more than what we did that day.”

On your last date, a simple kiss led to more than that, but it never got to what he’s offering. However, you can’t deny that the kiss was very hot and heavy. When the two of you broke apart, you wanted more. You didn’t want to stop.

That was the crazy part for you. You wanted more.

“That was too soon,” he says, interrupting your thoughts. “Sorry about that—just ignore what I said. I’ll see you later, okay?” Tucking his drink under his armpit, Seokjin gives you a quick smile and leaves the store, never giving you a chance to answer him. You can’t help but sigh in relief because you’re not sure what answer you’d give him. So, you continue your day with a few questions lingering in the air.

A few more hours go by when you’re finally done for the day. You gather all your belongings, say goodbye to your coworker, and head towards your car. Checking the time on your phone, you conclude that you have an hour and a half to go to your dorm, do a quick change, and meet with your friends at The Aeries for some dinner and a drink or two.

So although you shouldn’t have, you sped home in order to take a quick shower and change and sped to the restaurant to make it in time. You made it to the restaurant with two minutes to spare. You won’t do anything like that again. Your car isn’t strong enough to be speeding the streets.

Entering the restaurant, you tell the host who you’re looking for and follow him towards the back of the restaurant where your friends are waiting. They greet you with smiles and hugs as you take a seat and place your bag next to you between you and your friend Nora in the booth.

“So, Y/N,” Nora begins, your attention on her, “are you two a couple yet?”

“What?”

“You and Seokjin. Are you a thing or what?” your friend Ella tells you with excitement in her tone.

“We just went on a few dates,” you tell them, feeling flustered with their eyes on you.

“Oh please. There’s no way you two aren’t a couple yet. He confesses he likes you and you obviously like him. What’s there to think about?” Cal tells you, his head shaking in disbelief at your answer.

“What makes you think I like him?” you ask. It’s only recently that you’re realizing that you’re reacting differently around him.

“Ever since you met him your eyes would light up at the sight of him. You smile so damn big—you’re like a love sick puppy,” Ella answers, leaning back in her seat, arms crossing over her chest.

“I do not,” you argue.

“You do,” they all say, pushing your argument down real quick.

“If you never noticed how much you’re into him, then you’re blind as hell.”

You want to argue back, but remain silent. For some reason, you feel like they’re right. Like your expression does change when he enters the store; it’s just you’re too blinded by him that you don’t even notice your demeanor changing. Giving up is the best option, so you change the subject and thankfully your friends don’t bring up your relationship with Seokjin.

The four of you exit the restaurant, chatting about what plans you have for the weekend when Seokjin’s words come back to mind. “Oh, right,” you begin, your friends stopping in their tracks as they look back towards you, “Seokjin’s frat is having their last carwash tomorrow. He’s hoping you guys go get your cars washed. The entire frat will be there, so you’ll be entertained while your car is being washed.”

“Oh, hell yeah I’ll be there,” Cal jests, a huge smile on his face as he claps his hands in glee. “Hot guys washing my car with nothing but some loose shorts? You should have told me about it earlier. I would have gotten my car dirty everyday if it meant I got to see that view.”

You all laugh at Cal’s comment. “I might go too, but you should go, Y/N. Seokjin will be there, and that means you’ll get to see him half naked.” Nora winks at you, and your friends laugh at most likely your shocked reaction.

“I don’t think I’m gonna go. My car isn’t even dirty, plus water leaks in when it gets washed,” you tell them. There’s no way you can take your car.

You’re here, and the line is long.

There are so many cars waiting to be washed it’s absolutely amazing how many people there are. There’s no way they haven’t reached their money goal yet—you can bet they made more than they need.

Pulling your phone out of your pocket you open the group message you share with your friends. You type away when you notice they’re not here yet.

[Monday, August 30th, 1:37pm] You: Where are you guys?

You hit send and wait for a response, eyes scanning the area once more just in case you passed over them and didn’t notice. As your eyes scan the crowd of guys washing cars, some girls sitting outside their cars to watch the guys wash their cars, and even some familiar faces. Mainly the original seven… well minus Seokjin. You don’t see him anywhere. But before you can look any further for him, your phone chimes.

[Monday, August 30th, 1:39pm] Cal: I got my car washed earlier. Haru asked me out on a date ;)

[Monday, August 30th, 1:40pm] Ella: I’m gonna be a few minutes late! Had to finish my essay

[Monday, August 30th, 1:40pm] Nora: Same!!

You give a quick understanding response before heading back to your car. You’ll just wait for them to get here so you can get your cars washed together. You don’t get close to your car when you hear Seokjin’s voice call out to you. Stopping in your tracks, you turn around to see him making his way over to you. He’s smiling at you, his hair pushed back by sweat and water. He’s wearing a loose gray tank top with a sunset in the middle, black swim trunks and sandals. His arms are toned, sweat or water slowly sliding down—glistening in the sunlight. Your heart is racing, your body getting warmer than the sun is already making it. This is bad.

“You made it,” he says when he’s within earshot. “It’ll be a while before we wash your car, so I hope you don’t mind waiting.” He raises his hand to scratch the back of his head, his arm flexing as he does so. “We’ll be as quick as we can—”

“That other option,” you interrupt, “is it still available?” You feel so embarrassed for saying that, but with the way he’s flexing his arms, the outfit, the sweat glistening! You can’t help yourself. You want to touch him, feel him—

“It is,” he tells you, voice low and husky. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a key. He hands it over to you and you take it in confusion. “If you keep going forward you’ll find an office. Wait for me there.”

A chill runs down your spine as you nod, heading towards the direction Seokjin told you. You pass the lines of cars and people, the little building in sight. As you get closer, a somewhat familiar face appears before you. It’s Taehyung.

“Y/N right?” You nod in response. Taehyung holds out his hand towards you. “I’m gonna need your car keys for when it’s your turn.”

“Oh. Right,” you mumble, handing him your keys. “The top side passenger side windshield needs to have a towel pressed against it on the inside otherwise water leaks through when washing the car,” you say.

“Got it. Upper right corner.” With that, Taehyung walks away and towards a car currently being dried.

You turn your attention back to the building and walk towards it. You put the key in the hole and turn it, the door unlocking. Opening the door you enter inside, the door closing behind you. The room is dusty with only a desk, chair and small lamp to the right while a rather big couch is to the left of the room. Across from you is a window but the black curtains are blocking the sun from entering the room.

You step further into the room unsure of where to be at, but before you can even decide whether to stand or sit, the door behind you opens, sun spilling into the room before disappearing as the door shuts close. You hear the door locking as you turn around and see Seokjin.

His entire demeanor has changed. He stands with confidence, a dominating aura surrounds him. Your body tingles with excitement and nervousness. He walks up to you, holding up a piece of fabric in his hand. “Turn around,” he says, and your body turns on its own. As if Seokjin’s words have magic to them, controlling you. He covers your eyes and ties a small knot at the back of your head. All you see now is darkness. “Hands behind your back.” Again, you do as told and you feel what you think is rope being wrapped around your wrists, tying your hands together.

He says nothing more and you wonder what he’s going to do next, but you take in a sharp breath when you feel his teeth against the skin of your neck. He licks the sensitive area, one hand collecting your hair. You can’t help but tilt your head back to give him more access. Not being able to see what he’s doing makes everything feel ten times better. Your sense of touch heightened.

After a few more seconds, he finally stops, letting your hair go only to grab on to your arm and slowly guide you somewhere. You take several, cautious steps before he spins you around, your back to him. You hear like a rustling sound but you can’t tell what it is. You moved to the left you believe, so you must be at the couch, and you’re right when you feel Seokjin’s hands on your hips, guiding you to sit basically at the edge of the couch, in between his legs.

He leans you back against his chest, spreading your legs as wide as you can. You can feel his hands travel up from your legs to the buttons of your shorts. He unbuttons and unzips your shorts but doesn’t push them down. Instead, his hand slips in your underwear and between your lips. You let out a sigh, resting your head against his shoulder. His fingers move up and down between your lips, rubbing small circles on your bud every now and then.

The build up is slow. He doesn’t work his fingers fast to get you closer, and it makes you feel impatient. You want to feel his fingers inside you—you want to feel him inside you. When his fingers rub against your bud again, a small moan escapes your mouth. Your body is finally enjoying the pleasure he’s giving, and you want more of it.

You spread your legs wider, trying to give him as much access as you possibly can, but your shorts make it hard for his hand to move freely. However, it doesn’t seem to bother him all that much. His diligent fingers work with ease in your restricted shorts, pinching your bean, rubbing it and spreading your lips for his finger to tease your entrance. You’re moaning more and more the closer you get to coming. You’re close and he knows it.

“Seokjin,” you cry, chest heaving, hips moving along his fingers.

But he stops. He removes his fingers from your core and gets to his feet, forcing you to do the same. “Turn around,” he commands, waiting for you to do so. You do as told and you feel his hands at your shirt, unbuttoning your blouse one button at a time. When your blouse is unbuttoned he asks, “Is this your favorite bra?”

“No,” you whisper.

You feel his fingers grab a hold of your strap before a cold object touches your skin and then there’s a pull. One strap is no longer there. You realize he used a knife to cut it. He cuts the second strap before you feel his hands at the clasps of your bra. He unclasps them and removes your bra completely from you. A little off into the distance you can hear it hit the floor. You hear another sound, this one closer; like air was pushed out of something. That can only mean Seokjin sat back down on the couch.

And you’re right when he tells you, “On your knees.” You slowly lower to your knees, your left knee bumping against his foot. “All right, baby. Open your mouth and come forward.” The word “baby” sends a tingle throughout your body. You lean your body forward a bit, your mouth opening waiting for something. Seokjin grabs your face by your chin, your heart racing as you feel something warm and hard brush against your lips. “Suck me dry, baby.”

You stick your tongue out, feeling the skin of his shaft. You don’t hesitate to take him fully in your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat. You hear him sigh as you bring your head back up, his tip the only thing in your mouth. Your head goes back down, your tongue swirling as you do so and you hear him groan. You continue your movements for a while, hearing him moan every time he’s fully inside your mouth. “Fuck baby, you take me so well.” He gathers your hair in his hand, holding it tightly as he pulls it back, stopping you from moving. “I can’t wait to fuck you,” he tells you, guiding you back down. He pushes your head further than what you did. Your nose touches his abdomen and you gag a bit as he keeps you there. “I want to hear you scream my name when I fuck you. I want to hear you beg me to go faster, harder.”

He pulls your head back up and you gasp for air. You take in as much air as possible before he’s pushing you back down. “Your mouth is so warm. I could fuck your mouth all day.” When he brings your head back up, he keeps you there and thrusts his hips. You’re gagging every time he hits the back of your throat, but you want more. Your body is tingling with excitement at the sounds you’re making. The sounds he’s making. You can’t help but rub your thighs together, wanting to feel some sort of friction between your legs. “Your tits bounce so nicely, baby girl.” You want to see him. You want to see his expression, the pleasure you’re giving him. “I need to fuck your tits, baby.” He pulls out of your mouth completely, letting your hair go as he does so.

You can hear him moving around before his hand takes a hold of your arm and lifts you to your feet. You let him guide your body to whatever position he wants. He lies you on the couch, your arms in a slightly uncomfortable position, but you don’t care. You want to hear his moans again. You feel a dip on one side of your body, right between you and the back cushion. Seokjin grabs your breasts, pushing them together before he places his penis between them. You hear him spit and you feel warmth fall on your inner left breast, sliding between his shaft and your breast.

He begins his thrusts, and they’re not slow. He’s thrusting between your boobs like he would if he were inside you. He’s fast and has a quick rhythm. You lower your chin close to your chest and open your mouth. Seokjin takes the hint and brings himself closer, his tip barely entering your mouth when he thrusts forward. He’s cursing loud and thrusting hard. You’re honestly hoping it’ll leave bruises between your breasts. A mark of this night. A mark of a day you want to experience everyday.

They were right. Seokjin is a dominant man. Anything he says, you must follow. There are no ifs, ands or buts with him, and you absolutely love it. However hard he is with you know, you hope the next time he’s even harder with you. You want a few bruises on your body from his touch. You want red markings on your ass cheeks from him slapping it. You want to tell him all these things, but is it too early? Will he not be into that kind of roughness?

“Fuck. Open your mouth wide, I want you to taste and swallow me,” he grunts, giving you only a few seconds to open your mouth big enough for him to enter. He deep throats you hard, the sound of his hand gripping the leather armrest invades your right ear. He moans loudly, no rhythm to his thrusts as tears prick your eyes. Your legs are rubbing together faster, wanting to feel more pleasure as he goes rigid and still. You feel his warm seed run along your tongue, building up in your mouth as he pulls out. “Open your mouth and show me, baby. Fuck you did so well.” He pinches your nipple. “Swallow.”

You swallow, whimpering as he pinches both your nipples, his mouth against your neck once again. He bits and licks as his hands fondle your breasts. You feel his mouth lower to your boobs, taking your left breast into his mouth while the other continues to be played with. His free hand is between your legs, spreading them wide for him. He runs his fingers up and down your lips, coating them, riling you up. Finally, he inserts two digits inside you.

“Seokjin,” you moan, feeling him push and pull his fingers inside you. Every now and then he’ll twist or curve his fingers when he pushes, and you moan louder with each twist or curl. “Please,” you beg.

Seokjin removes his mouth from your sensitive nipple. “Please what?” He curls his digits as he enters. “Tell me what you want, baby girl.”

“P-please go faster. Please.”

He chuckles. “You want me to go faster?” You nod vigorously. “Okay, love. I’ll let you come on my fingers. Make sure you come hard though, or we’ll go for round two.” When he pulls out, he pushes in faster and rougher. You choke on air as he keeps this rough pace. He doesn’t stop, he doesn’t slow down. You’re screaming as he thrusts his fingers in you. Your back arches, toes curl as your high gets closer. Seokjin notices how close you are and he uses his other hand to rub your clit, helping you reach nirvana faster. And you do. Your body shakes forcefully as you come.

As your body calms, he pulls his finger out from you. Your body flinches as he does so. “That wasn’t hard enough, Y/N. I told you to come hard for me.” You feel all his weight lean back onto his knees. “You better come hard for me this time or we’ll go another round.” You honestly didn’t know what he meant by that statement until you feel the tip of his shaft push in your entrance. You gasp and moan as he pushes himself inside you. “Oh, fuck you’re tight.” He’s hard already? How can he be hard that fast?

Seokjin doesn’t hesitate to slam back into you when he pulls out. He isn’t slow or soft as he fucks you. He is quick and rough, skin slapping and loud moans fill the room immediately. His hand is on your throat, holding it tight enough to make you go crazy.

“Fuck you feel so good. I’ve been wanting to fuck you for so long, baby. Your curves and ass made it so hard not to fuck you when we first met. You don’t know how many times I’ve dreamt of fucking you in the back at the store. Taking you and having you beg me to fuck you hard. To take that chance in getting caught by customers or your boss. Fuck you feel so good. I could fuck you all day, baby. I want to fuck you all day. Right here in this room. I want to be the reason you can’t walk straight. To be the reason your body is aching. Fuck.”

He pulls out, pulling you up and onto your knees. He enters himself back in again from behind, one hand holding on to your waist while the other grips on your neck and pulls your head back with his lips pressed against your ear. He continues his hard fucking. You’re yelling at this point, feeling him hit your spot every time. You’ve already had small orgasms, your body unable to keep up with him as he continues to fuck you.

“Let me fuck you all day. You can come to my place and let me fuck you senseless. I want to go dry in you. Can I fuck you like that? Hmm baby? Let me fuck you like that,” he moans in your ear, making you go crazy.

“Yes,” you cry. “Please fuck me like that.”

“Oh, I will. I’ll have you begging for more each time I make you come. I need to see you—you better come hard or we’ll go again.” Much to your dismay, he pulls out and turns you back around, back to your original position. He pulls your blindfold down and you blink to clear your vision. When you do, you see him so clearly. He’s sweating. Drenched in sweat, and looking so amazing. His body is toned and glistening in sweat.

He pushes himself back inside you fast, keeping that pace. You cry out, back arching as he slams into you. “Oh fuck, baby I’m close. You’re so tight,” he grunts, spreading your legs wider for him.

“I’m coming,” you choke, stars invading your vision.

“Come for me,” he says, one hand going back down to our clit and making small, fast movements against it. You scream his name as you come, and as you look at him, you realize he made you squirt. You come hard, your juices hitting against his skin. “There you go baby—fuck,” he moans, his thrusts no longer in a rhythm as you feel his seed enter you. He stills for a moment, the two of you breathing heavily before he pulls out, your body flinching.

There’s a knock at the door. Both of you look towards it and Seokjin speaks up, “Looks like your car is ready for you.” You look to him and he looks down at you. “The frat is having a party tonight if you want to come.” He scans your body. “I could go for round three tonight.”

You go to the party that night, wearing a long sleeved shirt because the rope left its marking on your wrists. And that night you had round three. This time he was a lot more rougher with you. He left his markings on plenty of spots on your body, but you’re not complaining.

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luimagines · 3 years

Note

RQ: He’s upset and needs comforting

Masterlist

Ya'll want angst? Because I have some angst.

Very hurt/comfort

Set platonically and within the group since there was no specification. Hope that’s ok! Sorry it took awhile, it got away from me again. I think this may be a trend.

Scenario under the cut! It’s super long so take caution!

Sky

It took a while for you to notice but eventually you do.

Sky has been acting weird all day.

It was only clipped responses at first, then it was was the lack of attention where Sky would have been the first to comment or act otherwise. What really tipped you off finally was how he seemed to be evading the whole group. Not necessarily stepping away and out of sight but he didn’t interact with anyone and when they approached him, he didn’t make eye contact, seemingly trying to cut the conversation short.

No one has said anything.

You mention it to Twilight about his out of character behavior but he says that it maybe a bad day, or he slept wrong, or some other reason that you stopped listening to because it didn’t make any sense.

Sky was always trying to be friendly no matter his mood and it took a lot to shake him up.

What was eating at the Chosen Hero?

Soon, the uncertainty begins to eat at you too and you wait for night fall, once everyone is asleep to strike.

Strike up a conversation that is.

Sky usually takes the last watch because he’s usually the first one out regardless of what activities for the day so you strive to wake up early.

It works for the most part, your internal clock doing what you want it to do when you blink your eyes open. Part of you begins to drift off again so you sit up and nearly fall asleep that way.

A hand comes up on your back and rubs a small circle. “Nightmare?”

It’s Sky and he’s looking at you with mild concern.

You smile and shake your head. “No. I’m alright but I think I’ll stay up with you if you don’t mind.”

“I wouldn’t mind the company.” He moves out of your space and back to where he sat.

You follow, still groggy from just waking from your slumber but succeed in not stepping on any of your friends or waking them up as well with the added noise. you sit next to the Hero of the Skies with little fan fare and let the moment settle on the both of you before looking skyward.

“Can I ask you something?” You don’t look at Sky and continue star gazing even if they’re a little harder to spot as the sun travels closer for it’s shift.

Sky hums in agreement and follows your gaze upwards.

“Are you ok? You seemed a little off lately.”

Sky doesn’t say anything for the first few seconds and you suspect that maybe he didn’t hear you. With him spacing out so much and the fact that you whispered for the sake of your still sleeping friends, you’re inclined to repeat yourself but Sky answers in time.

“Just thinking a lot, I suppose. Nothing serious.”

“Yeah?” You don’t look his way. This is casual. This is friendly. This is not a big deal. “Rupee for your thoughts?”

“It’s not that interesting.”

You shrug. “Hit me with it anyway. It’s got to be something if it’s throwing you off your rocker. Maybe a new perspective will help clear some of it up?”

Sky frowns at your attempts, once again retreating into his mind. You let the offer hang in the air and let it sink in.

You’re disinclined to bring it up anymore. Your brain is still tired and you’re wondering your effectiveness when half of your thoughts are still muddled with sleep and fatigue. You could have totally slept in some more. What on earth made you think this was a good idea?

“Time mentioned something earlier that I can’t seem to let go of.” Sky begins.

You hum back and let him keep talking.

“I never fought this Ganon guy they all so talk so much about. I fought the God Demise. Before I could land the final blow, he cast a curse on me, on us, that some cycle would continue. His hatred would last forever and my blood line and Zelda’s will be cursed to deal with constant darkness caused by him.” Sky admits, looking now at his intertwined hands. “I finished him soon after that but... I wonder... Am I the cause-... Is this all my fault? Am I the reason that we’re all here right now? That everyone has gone through so much? So many thing happened that should have never occurred. Time and Legend and Wild have all suffered so much.... more than I can possibly ever imagine and it seems like it’s never ending. Everyone starts they’re adventures so young... If I had killed him sooner... If I had just got it over with... If I had just shut him up-”

“Hey.” Your hand lands on his shoulder, cutting off his tirade. “None of this is anyone’s fault. The only people to blame are Ganon and now, this Demise guy. You did what you could. You still got the job done and no one here will ever blame you for what has happened to them or to Hyrule. You were young too... you’re still young. Give yourself a little kindness and understanding, just as you do with everyone here. You didn’t deserve it either. It’s not like you asked to fight a God.”

“Well...”

“Sky you know what I mean.”

“I should have been faster. If-”

“There’s no use in worrying about what if’s.” You shove him slightly. “This is our life. Even if you ask, no one is capable of giving you the answers. I get it. It’s hard to know if the path you took is the right one if it’s all you’ve ever known and you can’t see where the other would have lead... But... Even if horrible things happen, I’m still glad to have met you. I’m glad I met the others. I’m happy to be here with you and with them, and I’m glad that it’s not just me anymore.”

You let the words sink in before leaning down wards and trying to get him to look you in the eye. “I can’t answer your questions. But what happened, happened and the best thing we can do is learn how to play with the cards we’re dealt.”

He take a deep breath and finally looks in your direction. “I know you’re right.”

“Naturally.”

“But I can’t help but feel responsible for being-”

“But you’re not responsible for their pain or any of this Sky. If Ganon has anything to do with Demise then it’s all Demise’ fault. His and his only. Understand?” You stress. “I wish... I wish I could do something more to help.”

Sky places his hand over yours where you still have it on his shoulder and sends you a small smile. “I know. Me too.”

Wild

“Zelda, would you please drop it!” You hear the Champion yell, his voice carrying over the wind and somehow getting louder. “We’ve had this conversation before and it’s not the time to have it again. I have things to do excuse me.”

Wild storms into his house and shuts the door behind, blocking it with all his weight and waits for the indignant shrieking on the other side to go away. The voice ends with a frustrated huff and after a moment of silence, Wild relaxes and steps away from the door and further into the house.

You’re almost scared for the moment. You’ve not known Wild to yell, even less so for a Link to be on bad terms with Zelda no matter the universe. To make matters worse, you were the only that was actually within the house at the moment and you weren’t entirely sure how to proceed from here.

“Trouble in paradise?”

That probably wasn’t the way to go, if you were being honest with yourself.

Wild groans, loud and exaggerated and sits at the table in front of you with as much fan fair.

“Do not...call it that.” He sounds tired.

“Sorry.” You amend with an apologetic shrug. “That-” You reference to the scene outside. “-Didn’t sound ideal.”

“No. It’s not.” Wild sighs and places his face in his hands with his elbows on the table. Bad table manners, a small voice in your head pipes up. But it’s his house, so you bite your tongue.

“Can I ask what it was about?” You hesitatingly venture.

Wild takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out. “I wanted to live a simple life.” He starts. “Everything was over now, right? That was the idea I had. Defeat the evil and get to finally live as a normal man. Maybe explore more of my home and show Zelda all the cool things I’ve seen and done. Everything I knew, everything I remembered is gone and has been gone for a while. No one alive misses it. No one alive even knows about it. This is the world they were born into and they wouldn’t have it any other way. I was prepared to accept that and join them.”

Your face twists in sympathy as you nod along. “I take it that’s the issue here.”

“When I defeated Calamity Ganon and reunited with Zelda, she seemed so full of hope and purpose.” Wild continues. “I saw it in her eyes. She wanted a different thing to what I wanted.”

“And what’s that?”

Wild gives you a pained look. “Zelda wants to try and rebuild the kingdom. Make it into what she remembers it to be. She wants to strengthen relationships with the other nations and reestablish the royal family and a whole lot of other things that I cannot begin to think of how long it would both take and last considering all the damage that already been done. She wants to be Queen. And over what? Hyrule Kingdom is no more. Can’t be a Queen without a kingdom to rule and there’s not a lot of Hylians left that would agree to being ruled over or even enough of them to count as a kingdom to begin with.”

“I suppose it’s not a bad goal to have but you do make a point.” You try and add to the conversation, feeling wildly out of your depth. “Does she know that you-”

“Yes. And she thinks I’m crazy for it. She thinks that I’ve given up on my friends and the past and the future and- uugghhh.” Wild leaned forward and slams his head on the table with enough force to make you jump.

“That look like it hurt.”

“I’ve had worse.”

“I believe you.” A small smile covers your face.

A beat passes before Wild continues to talk with his head still on top of the table. “I don’t think she realizes that I’ve changed after everything. Maybe if I had my memories to begin with, or maybe if I had managed to defeat Calamity Ganon sooner, I’d be more inclined to agree with her, but I’ve experienced so much and done so much that I don’t want to go back to how things were. I’m a different man now.” Wild looks up at you. “She’s different too but I don’t think she’s ready for that conversation.”

“So you’re stuck with this one?”

“Yes.”

“That sucks man.” You shift in your seat. “Anything I can do to help?”

“Not if you can change the past.” He pouts.

“Shame. I’m fresh out of past changing wishing powder.”

“That’s not a thing.” He pouts even more.

You chuckle at the display before sobering up ever so slightly. “Do you want me to talk to her?”

“What good will that do?”

“Maybe a third person party has to step in. It could be that it’s because you’re the one who saying that she isn’t listening.” You shrug. “I think you’re right but I’m willing to give her chance to tell her side of the story while you cool down in here. I can be a distraction so you can sneak out quietly and she won’t know you’re here anymore! It’s a win win! And maybe you guys can come to an agreement when you both see each other again with new perspectives.”

Wild gives you another tired look and leans into his hand. “I doubt it would work. Zelda is incredibly stubborn, one of the most stubborn people I’ve ever met. But if you think it would help, I won’t stop you. I’ve run out of arguments and I’m done hearing hers.”

“Ok.” You say getting up and moving around the table. “I think it’s worth a shot. There’s a saying where I’m from that goes, ‘it’ll all be alright in the end, and if it’s not alright, then it��s not the end.’”

You give Wild a hug around his shoulder and squeeze him tight. “I have faith that you’ll pull through and get to live peacefully, but until then, you’ve got us on your side ok?”

He leans in your direction and wraps his arms around your own. “I know. I figured as much.”

“Good man.”

“I’m definitely sneaking out of here though.”

“That’s fair. Go hide.”

“I will... And thanks for listening to me. I didn’t mean to go off like that.”

“That’s what I’m here for.”

Four

"I'm sorry, what?" Four snaps his head up to stare at the Champion.

"What?" Wild tilts his head. "What? There's no stuff in the grass in my Hyrule. Just crickets and lizards...you know normal stuff. I don't know why there's tools and rupees in all of yours."

"You don't-" Four cut himself off with a click of his teeth, a piece in his mind clicking into place. He stands suddenly, clearly upset and tense as he processes the information.

"Four?" You call out to him but he doesn't respond to you, nor does he look back.

"Four!" Hyrule calls as well. "Where are you going?"

No reply.

"I'll go with him. Just in case." You stand up in a rush and nearly knock over the equipment at your feet in the process. "Don't wait up for us."

You follow him.

Four is fast and quiet and it takes very little time to lose him- or rather, for him to lose you.

Before you knew it, there's no trace of him and there's nothing within the forest that would give you a hint to his whereabouts.

"Great." You hiss and look around.

Nothing.

"Four!" If he won't show himself, you'll just have to make some noise. "Four! Four! Show me a sign so I know you're not dead!"

You wait.

"Don't make me get Wolfie!"

Nothing.

"Four!" You scream a little louder and begin to run. Now that you've said it out loud, despite being a joke in the beginning, the thought of Four being dead somewhere spikes your panic and anxiety and it fuels your quest.

It's only been a few minutes and Four can handle himself just fine but you don't think about that.

"FOUR!"

"Why are you screaming?" A voice come just beyond you.

You sprint toward it and find Four in a small clearing, crouched down and appearing to hold something in the palm of his hand.

"I was calling you." You don't know how you find it in you scold him. "A response would have been nice."

"Sorry." He shrugs. "I was having a conversation, it would be rude to drop it."

You get on your tip toes to look around him and find nothing. "With... With what?"

Four looks down into his hand and places it, ever so gently, on the ground, pausing and standing up to see you. "You can't see them?"

"See who?" You step over to him. "Four? Are you ok?"

His face twists in annoyance before sighing. "I'm fine."

"No offence, but I doubt that."

"It... a group of creatures that can only be seen by good children. They were important on my quests and have helped me greatly. Children usually stop seeing them around the time when they turn sixteen."

"Would it be easy for me to chalk it all up to magic?" You bit your lip.

"Probably. If it'll help you sleep at night." Four sighs and looks down to the ground, a small smile on his lips before it twists into a painfully and... he looks seconds from crying.

"I did so much to help them... and they helped me.... They leave gifts in the grass to help travelers and us heroes alike and yet... Wild says it doesn't happen anymore..." Four gulps and looks away from you and what ever is by his foot. "They wouldn't stop.... They're incredibly kind and hospitable and... There's no reason for them... Why are they gone?"

"Four." You reach out and place a hand on his shoulder.

"What happens to them?" His Adam's apple bobs a bit as he sucks in a breath. "It just means there was no one to help them."

"Oh Four." You pull him into a hug and nearly crush him with it.

"There's nothing I can do to help them, is there?" He sniffles into your chest.

"No, I... I don't think so Four. Not that far out into the future." You shake your head and begin to rub circles on his back.

You don't think he's crying but he might be fighting it because he does begin shaking.

He doesn't say anything else and you're loath to let him go when he's so emotionally charged. So you hold him. You hold him for as long as he needs and you wait for him to pull away first.

When he does, you keep your hands on his shoulders and he stays within your reach. Four begins to take deep calming breaths with his eyes closed and you instinctually run your hands through his bangs and push some of the loose hairs from his face.

Minutes continue to pass and the sounds of nature around you fill the void.

"I'm sorry." You say. "I wish I could help you but I don't know how."

Four nods and rubs his eyes. "I don't doubt that. Thank you. I'll be ok."

You don't think he's ready to go back to the group just yet, not after all that. "Tell me more about these friends of yours. How did they help you? How did you help them? What are they exactly?"

It earns you a small laugh and he grins up at you with a watery smile. "Sit down. And let me tell you about the Picori."

Twilight

“You almost died and for what?!” Twilight screams at Wild for the umpteenth time.

It startles you to hear his voice reach such volumes but you’re inclined to agree with him this time around. After Wild’s stunt with taking a hit to the head for Wind, you’d been on the look out for his more... self sacrificing behavior. You knew he wouldn’t think twice to do it and you tried to make it so there wouldn’t even be a chance for him to make such a decision.

This time though, in this last fight, you took your eyes off of him for only a moment and that’s when he broke his streak of uneventful fights.

Twilight, of course, is livid and has no regard for the poor creatures of the forest that have to endure his tirade as he unleashes his concern and worry in the form of rage and over exaggerated gestures.

When Hyrule finishes healing your more minor wounds, you slink away from the soon to be screaming match since Wild is very much still conscious, if a little roughed up. You don’t intended to stray as far as you go but you don’t find it in yourself to care for the time being.

Being around so many people for so long is taxing. You make the executive decision to remove yourself for the time being while tensions are high, to both cool off and to avoid getting hit in the crossfire.

There’s a small creek nearby, you find, and decide to make a small space for yourself there until dinner comes rolling around. The birds and the babbling waters calm your soul and snuffle out the last of the adrenaline. You don’t know how long you sit there, but you can faintly hear the screaming match in the distance that you dipped out of.

You don’t regret it.

More time passes and you find that you may or may not have taken a small nap in the meantime. If the position of the sun is anything to go by.

Despite the pain in your back from sleeping against a tree, the slight ache in your neck from the angle you slept in, you feel better. Clearer, even.

You hope your absence wasn’t entirely noticed but you can’t seem to regret leaving either.

Footsteps creep closer to you and you huddle into a small ball out of habit to avoid detection.

It’s Twilight.

He walks near the creek and takes a heavy seat next to it. He looks both pale or red faced at the same time but exhaustion is laced in his entire body from what you can tell.

He doesn’t notice you.

You uncurl and set your legs out in front of you. Leaning forward a little, as quietly as you can, you see that he’s upset. It doesn’t surprise you. But seeing as you don’t how to deal with an upset Twilight and you can’t really sneak away without crossing his line of sight or making any miniscule noise, you still yourself and wait.

And wait.

Twilight calls your name. Quietly and hollow- like he’s not all there. Or in the way one would talk to a memory.

It’s immediately unsettling. Both in how he sounds and how he knew you were there without you doing anything. But you suppose Twilight can just sense things like that from times to time. It’s certainly not the first time he’s done it.

“I’m here.” You reply.

“How long?”

“A few hours I think. Longer than you were here that’s for sure.” You shrug and slowly crawl out of your hidey hole. “I think I fell asleep....The sun wasn’t over there when I first got here.”

Twilights hums in what you think is agreement but it’s really only a sound. “It’s a nice spot.”

You smile. It’s tense and little fake, but he’s not looking at you so you don’t care for authenticity. “Good thing it’s big enough for the both of us huh?”

“Yeah.” He looked into the distance again, noting that the sun is beginning to set and takes a deep breath. “Do you ever feel a strange sadness as dusk falls?”

“Can’t say that I have.” You move closer to him, aiming to sit by his side. “I’ve always enjoyed sun sets and I find them calming to watch but hearing someone finding them sad is a new one. Do you feel sad as dusk falls?”

He hums again. “They say it’s the only time their world interacts with ours.”

“Whos?”

“Lingering spirits I suppose...” Twilight tilts his head upwards before twisting it to look at you. “It’s nothing. I’m just reminiscing about my life before my adventure is all. My... father told me those words and I haven’t forgotten them since.”

You hum this time and lean back to mirror him. “Wanna tell me why?”

“That Champion reminds me so much of myself and yet... he’s ten times worse.” Twilight falls backwards with a soft thump. “I know why he does it but I...”

“You care about him and don’t want to see him hurt.” You shrug. “It’s not exactly a new concept.”

“Tell that to him.”

“Maybe I will. He gets just as upset as you do when this happens, you know.” You shift your weight to make it easier to stand up later.

“Does he? You’d think that he’d get the point to stop doing then.” He growls.

“Maybe he’s scared of losing more friends.” You blurt before you can stop yourself. That was something Wild told you in confidence and while he didn’t say you couldn’t tell anyone- that was kinda implied.

Twilight stills for a moment, the fight leaving him again in a single breath as he considers your words. They don’t seem to be new news to him.

Wild is pretty close to Twilight...Maybe he already knew.

“I still think I’m entitled to not like it.” He settles.

“It’s not he’s asking you to be ok with it. I know I’m not.”

“I guess that’s fair then.” Twilight sits up again and stands up in one fluid motion that you envy. With a turn on his heel, he holds his hand out to you to take.

You take it and feel him effortlessly lift you off of the ground with that one hand.

You don’t comment on it.

“Come on.” He says. “I’m going to need you for moral support.”

“Why?”

“If I yelled in front of him of the whole group, I should apologize to him in front of the whole group.” He admits and wraps his arm around your shoulders. “But I might need an excuse to get close to him again after all the things I’ve said.”

“I get your desert and you’ve got yourself a deal. I left to not get involved and here you are... involving me.” You tease. “I demand payment.”

“One desert? I can do that.”

Hyrule

“I can’t do this.” You snap your head to the sound of the voice and see Hyrule with his arms cross and shaking.

“What? What’s happening? Hyrule?” You step closer to him as you’re the only one within arms reach. “What do I need to do? How can I help?”

“There’s nothing. Nothing you can do, that can make this better.” Hyrule takes one ground step before throwing his arms down. “Don’t you see them? With all their tools and experience and then there’s- me. Just me. Some magic later and a old man with a sword and I found myself trying to save my princess and defeat some evil, but these guys...”

You look around, trying to see if Legend or Sky are close enough to give you back up, or better yet, take over. You suppose it’s better than a panic attack but it’s so left field that you’re stunned and floundering to catch this hot potato of a conversation.

He keep talking.

“For all that is good and holy, they are heroes. Do you see them? Some of them have training, and families and skills and I....was just a boy in a grave yard. How can I even compete with them? I don’t, that’s how. But how can they consider me an equal? When I was in town and listened to the elders and their stories, they would tell me of a legendary hero from the past who courageously defended our home until the very end and who was virtually undefeated in all his adventures. And then I meet Legend....and he’s so much cooler than all those stories combined.”

“Link.” You call out to him and back to the real world. “You need to slow down for me honey because you’re too fast for me to keep up. What do you mean how can they see you as an equal? You defeated Ganon just as they did. You stood up for your home just as they did. You did it all on your own just as they did. Why wouldn’t they consider you an equal? No one cares about where you’re from, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

“But they can do so many things even without the sword!” He exclaims. “They all have a place to go to, a person who cares about them, a title or a skill and a world that’s not on the brink of collapse-”

“Ok, whoa, hey.” You step into his space and take his face into your hands, bringing it up for him to look you in the eyes.

“I have no idea what brought this up but I won’t stand for anyone talking bad about you. And that includes you. We... can talk about your home with clearer heads later, ok? Maybe the others can help with that when we get there, yeah? And well....” You’re sinking. You don’t know what to do with all this information and you have even less of an idea about how to address it.

“Good golly, when it rains, it pours with you lot, doesn’t it?” You hiss under your breath and bite the bullet. With a strong grip, you wrap your arms around the Traveler and pull him close. You try to keep your grip strong without fear of hurting him, but it hits you then how thin he is. How light he actually is. You can feel the hint of armor under his tunic and it does little to quell your fears.

“Clearly there’s a lot on your mind. And... I’m probably not the person to help you through this. If you want to talk about not belonging though, I’m free to listen. I’m the only one here who’s not a Link, if you haven’t noticed.” You try to joke but it falls a little flat. “You though... You belong here with all of us... all of them... And if you need more convincing then I’m bringing this up with Legend who’s is over the moon proud of you and what you can do and he told me himself that he couldn’t be happier to have you as his successor-”

“Really?”

“Not in those exact words admittedly,-” You gulp as the word vomit continues to bubble out of you in waves of panic. “-but I know that’s what he meant because he doesn’t stop talking about how cool you are.”

“Hm.”

“And everyone has a different background, ok? Everyone has skills and people that the others don’t have. That’s ok. It’s not a competition. I get worried that one day you guys are going to create some game out of all your trauma. Like... who had it worse and just go around in a circle listing off all the things that happened to each of you... Whoever runs out of things to say or can’t think of something as bad or worse than the others is out. Last man standing wins.”

“Don’t give them ideas.” You feel him chuckle. It’s breathless and small and it doesn’t reach your ears despite your closeness but you feel it.

“Good thing it’s just you and me right now.” You sigh a little in relief and loosen the hug. “Look, just.....whatever you think you can’t do, just know that there is someone who is confidently doing it wrong right now. In the group or not, just keep your eyes and watch. They don’t plan on doing it better either and people are celebrating them for it. Please believe in your own excellence as much as they believe in their mediocrity.”

“Big words.”

“You’re awesome for trying. Others are not and don’t plan to. You’re already better than them.” You amend, stepping away to look him in the eye again. “The group can’t do magic like you can. That’s all you. They all have items sure but no one can do what you do... and you’re self taught, right? That’s incredible! You have just as much as a reason to be here as the others. I swear it.”

Hyrule sighs and gulps. He doesn’t believe you. It’s not enough.

You knew it wouldn’t be and it’s definitely doesn’t scratch the tip of the iceberg of the bomb he just dropped on you but... step by step. Little by little. you have a plan.

“Screw it. Let’s catch up with Wind and Warrior and get them to tell you how awesome you are, since you won’t listen to me. And if you’re still a nonbeliever then we move on to the next pair. We’ll go down the line if we have to.” You nod and grab his hand, beginning to drag him along.

He laughs after you, a little hysterical and in disbelief. “You’re crazy.”

“That is not new information.” You reply, hiding your grin. “I say it’s Hyrule loving hours and I’m gonna get everyone to join.”

“You’re not joking are you.” It’s a statement. He already knows the answer.

“Nope!”

Legend

It was your turn on watch for the night. In an hour or two you were supposed to wake the Veteran for his shift and finally catch some sleep.

The others snored and slept away without a care in the world. It was just you and cackling fire that was active but you’d kill for something to help your mind get passed the boredom.

Anything but monsters or an attack that is. You’d hate to jinx your good luck so far.

In the corner of your eye, while fighting to keep your head up, you see Legend shift. Not necessarily unusual. You’re inclined to ignore it.

But then he shifts again, whimpering like he’s been hurt and a white knuckled grip on the blanket.

You still and begin to wonder what’s your level of care here.

Part of you, in kindness, wants to go wake him. The lack of sleep seems more merciful than letting him suffer a prison of his own making.

But you also don’t know how he’ll react.

You know he’d hate to be seen as weak for whatever normal reason and he’s been inclined to wake up swinging in the right circumstance.

Twilight suffered a broken nose for the whole night because he was disinclined to wake up Hyrule or take a potion.

Not you’d make the same decision and suffer the whole night in the same manner but it certainly fails to sound appealing.

Just as your about to appeal to your better nature and force yourself to go wake him before it gets worse, he shoots up into a sitting position with a strangled scream. The job seems to have been done for you- but in the worse way.

He’s breathing hard with his hand gripping his chest. Legend begins to frantically look around and slowly begins to piece together where he is and what’s happened. He never looks behind him, where you are, before running a hand through his hair a little harder than you think reasonable and getting to his feet.

You cough slightly, leaning away from the fire and back into previous position. You hadn’t realized you leaned into his direction as you watched him, inches from putting your face into the flame.

He startles at the sound and whips around, one hand poised to reach the sword he’s not equipped with.

“It’s just me.” You wave. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

He calms somewhat and you can see his jaw flex. “Well, goodnight to you.”

His voice is croaked- from disuse or an overwhelming emotion, you’re not sure.

“For me maybe. But you? That was quite a scare you gave me as well.” You play it off. You can at least pretend that you weren’t watching him. That you would have saved him a little earlier and took your sweet time doing it. You offer a peace offering to your morals. “Want to talk about it?”

“What’s there to talk about?” He snaps, furiously rubbing his face. “It’s nothing new. We all deal with it one way or another.”

“True. But it’ll be easier to let it go, and let the experience float up into the air and never return. Otherwise it’ll fester and grow.” You shrug. “But I won’t force you. I know you’re not exactly fond of me.”

Legend glares into the fire as you talk and refuses to look at you. Once you finish though, he moves his head away, still not in your direction but visually drops more tension from his shoulders.

He doesn’t say anything.

“There’s a spot next to me with your name on it if you want it.” You offer. “A little company wouldn’t hurt.”

He takes more time to respond and you resolve to go back to staring at the fire.

A moment or two passes and you hear the faint sound of crunched foliage. It takes of your will power to not look up as he approaches and even more so when he decidedly sits next to you.

The fabric of his tunic brushes your leg for a minute and it strikes you odd that he sat that close despite the rest of the log at his disposal.

It must have been bad if he wants to be close to someone right after. The thought enters your mind. Once it’s there you don’t chase it away and instead casually lean back with your hand behind you.

If the angle causes you to lean closer to him in the process, you don’t say anything.

And if Legend notices, he doesn’t say anything either.

A moment of time passes in silence, the only sounds through the whole forest are crickets and a passing owl with the occasional whisper through the trees.

“How do you do it?” He asks.

“Do what?” You tilt your head in his direction.

He’s still not looking at you.

“Keep going.”

The answer shocks momentarily but you’re not surprised that it’s coming from him out of the whole group. “Legend-”

“I’m tired.” He says instead. “I hate this. I hate that sword. I hate that pig demon. I hate that I can’t be done.”

You hand comes up to his shoulder and you force him to look at you.

He lets you and he looks up to you with tears building up in his eyes and for a moment you’re struck by the odd balance of how old he sounds but how young he looks- is.

You stuck floundering for a response to answer him with but he asks one more thing. “Why can’t I be done?”

You pull him into a hug before you can stop yourself. “I don’t know. I don’t know Link.”

You find yourself wanting to cry as well once Legend collapses into the hug. He’s not hugging you back but he’s being held for the first time in... you don’t know how long. Your grip tightens.

“But I do know is that you’re not alone. Not anymore. And maybe....maybe this is the final fight. That’s why we’re all together right? A darkness so evil ahead that every hero is required and then....rest. For each and every one of you.”

You sniffle, carding your fingers through his hair without a moments hesitation. “If it’s not then I’ll fight everything for you from then on. I’ll take your place you hear me. I’ll take your job and title and you won’t have to do this anymore.”

“I’m the Hero of Legend. That’s not exactly an easy thing-”

“No. I am the hero now. I’ve decided it.” You hide the tears in his hair to the best of your ability.

Legend snorted, loud and wet but you elected to ignore it just as you were ignoring the ever growing wet spot on your shoulder. “I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“It does now. I said so.”

A beat.

“...Ok.” He sniffled and rubbed his head on your shirt. He took a deep breath and exhaled, letting the night take over the atmosphere again. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

“Don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t tell anyone.”

He nods once, definitive and final. Your expecting him to let go now and return to his roll, already electing to take over his shift as well and just push through the next day.

Except he doesn’t.

Legend calls your name, testing the waters and lifts his head up ever so slightly. “...It’s not that I’m... not... fond of you-”

“Save it for a rainy day.” You grin. “I think you’ve had your fill of emotions for the night.”

He nods and eventually slips into sleep with his head on your chest, no doubt lulled by your heartbeat.

With tearful eyes, you stare back into the fire.

Time

Time marched from the stunned group the same way a parent does after making a scathing remark instead of a lecture.

You know the one.

“I’m not mad. Just disappointed.”

The poor boys suddenly didn’t know what to so with themselves or how to get back into Time’s good graces.

You felt for them and their awkward meandering through the camp. So, with your pride swallowed, you follow in the vague direction where Time went off to and decided to at least talk him down.

He is... decidedly harder to find than you previous imagined.

Just as your starting to think the Old Man doesn’t want to be found, you hear subtle swing. It’s to your left and it sounds heavy.

So naturally you follow it

Which leads you to a small clearing just beyond a bunch of bushes.

Time is there, full armor still on and swinging his giant sword forcefully, each swing stronger than the last. It’s as if it weighs only as much as Four. You’ve wondered in the past what it would like if he decided to actually throw the smallest ones of the group but out of fear, do not voice your ideas.

Just because Time won’t doesn’t mean that the others won’t try.

It’s hard being the responsible one when there are nine Links to take care of, each as much as a gremlin as the last. It must be hell on Time’s back to carry the group.

You see where he’s coming from and yet...

“You can stand to be a little more patient with them.”

The words are out of your mouth before you can actually stop them.

Time stops abruptly, in both the figurative and literal sense, before the man turns to you with that same face of neutral disappointment.

“They are heroes.”

“They are also children, Time. I think that it’s because they are heroes that they deserve to act their age every now and then.”

“Slacking won’t divert the evil away from our home.”

“Running face first into the problem won’t solve it either.” You sigh and walk up the man. He tenses as you approach and slowly lets his weapon down. The Hero of Time is an intimidating creature but you refuse to let that dissuade you.

“Look, I know why you’re upset. I get it. It’s hard to get a job done when you feel like you’re the only one it’s important to... But have a little faith in our group. Please.” You plead and stop right in front of him. You have to look up at him slightly due to the angle but he was forced to acknowledge you here.

His arms cross and he opens his mouth to respond but you cut him off.

“You’re right, they are heroes and there is a job to be done and an evil to be done away with. But they were even younger when they earned the title. They still vanquished the darkness even for their age. You have to trust that they will do the same here.” You reach up and put your hands on his shoulders, getting onto your tip toes to look him in the eye better. “And they will. Because they are heroes. Because they have the spirit of courage. Because they are Link... Just like you.”

He softens his stance ever so slightly but he still doesn’t look pleased.

“It’s not easy I know.” You get down again. “But they look up to you. I think all of them do. And I can’t stand to see how hurt they look when you get upset when they act their age. It’s not like they can help it.”

He takes a deep breath and uncrossed his arms. He takes a minute to respond. Time stared at you intensely before he drops all the tension in his body and finally lets his weapon go. A single hand comes up to pat your head.

“Let’s head back to camp.”

He says nothing else and continues to walk past you and back the way you came.

You don’t ignore the sense of accomplishment and refuse to dampen it when you catch the tiniest slivers of a smile before he turns away from you completely.

Wind

You’re lying peacefully on the dirt when you hear someone sit beside you with more power than would ever be needed.

You don’t open your eyes for the sake of the other person, not really thinking much of it and even forgetting that they were there until you heard the smallest of sniffles.

Now, you’re sitting straight up with wide and concerned eyes locking directly onto the crying form of your beloved pirate.

It’s hard not to feel for him and while you’re not sure what sprung this up, you don’t have it in you to turn him away, or to ignore that he was upset.

Neither of you say anything and you’re almost afraid it make the picture in front of you a little too real.

Instead, you move yourself closer to him and open up your arms.

Wind doesn’t hesitate to throw himself onto you and let his body sag with unwanted emotion.

As sobs silently rack his body, you begin to feel yourself rock back and forth for both his comfort and yours. Soon you start running your hands through his hair and rub small circles on his back.

He cries for a long time and never once gives you a clue why.

You don’t ask either.

Still, once the moment has passed, you continue to hold onto him. He doesn’t make any moves to let go of you any time soon and you’re happy to be there for as long as he’ll let you.

That doesn’t stifle your concern over the cause but you’re loath to bring it up.

Minutes pass with the boy in your arms and it’s only when you shift positions, does he look up at your face. His eyes aren’t as red anymore with the amount of time that’s passes since he’s stopped crying but his face is still a little puffy and his cheeks are both stained in tears and incredibly red.

A small smile creeps onto your face when you look back at him. “Feel better?”

“A little.” He admits and sniffles the last of the tears away, wiping his face with his sleeve. “Thanks.”

“For you? Anytime.”

Warrior

It struck you as odd that it was dinner time the group seemed to be missing someone.

Earlier that day the group had split up to take down some troublesome monsters on the border of some tiny town defenseless town and that was that.

It didn’t seem like big deal nor was it a particularly hard thing to do. The monsters weren’t infected and they didn’t have numbers on their side so your group took care of the pests in a matter of moments.

And yet, when everyone regrouped there was a visible tension.

Some thing had happened on the other side of the fight and no one wanted to fess up, even less so when Time mentioned it.

It worried you.

Now, as it stood the tension was still there but Warrior didn’t want to come out of the wood work. He had left earlier claiming to need to check up on his appearance and no one had questioned him. No one offered to go with him.

It was always dangerous to go alone.

“Hey, has anyone seen Warrior?” You glance around again, hoping it was just a miscount on your part. “It’s been awhile since he left.”

“He takes his sweet time.” Legend snapped. “And you know how narcissistic he is. He’s probably trying to get every single little hair in the right place and working out every little blemish in his stupid uniform-”

“I’m going to look to him.” You stand, placing your cooling food down by your foot. You don’t know what happened or what caused it but at least an idea begins to form. “It’s been too long regardless. Keep my food warm for me, yeah?”

You don’t wait for a response and walk away into the tree line where you think Warrior might be.

“It’s getting dark. Be careful.” Someone calls from behind you, mouth clearly full of food.

“Yes sir.” You reply.

You march on.

When you’re sure you’re far enough away, you begin to call out to Warrior.

It takes a minute to get any results but you’re starting to worry about your friend. The sun is lowering in the horizon as time goes by and you’re beginning to feel silly and frustrated and-

“I’m here.” A tired voice replies.

“Oh thank goodness.” You cross the distance between you two. “I was really starting to worry.”

Warrior puts on a brave face and a small smile that doesn’t reach his eyes greets you when you stop in front of him. His look a little puffy and you think his eyes might be a little red but it easily be the lighting- or lack there of.

“Are you ok?”

“Obviously.”

You doubt him and it must have shown on your face because he immediately begins walking away. “Well look at the time. Crazy how fast the sun goes. Let’s get back to the group and eat. I’m starving-”

You grab his wrist as he pasts you and get a good look at him. “Are you ready to go back to the group? They can wait a little longer if you want them too.”

It irritated you that it’s come to this. How no one went to check on him. How no one offered to go with you. How no one seemed bothered by this. How long that he was alone dealing with something that’s been bothering him. How it took you so long to do something.

“No. It’s fine.” He says. Lying. It must have really bothered him, usually he’s better than this. “It’s about time to head back anyway.”

“They can wait.” Your grip tightens. “The sun can wait. We’re not obligated to be there. What’s wrong? ...If you want to talk about it that is...” You trail off uselessly. It only occurred to you that near the end that he may not even speak about with you. You weren’t the closest in terms of grouping but you can’t stand the thought of someone hurting alone.

“I’m fin-”

“You look like you were crying.” You cut him off. “If you don’t want to talk about it with me, that’s fine, just say it. But you might need more time before you head back anyway if you actually want them to believe you when you say you’re fine.”

He sighs and runs his hand through his hair.

“Warrior?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing.”

“If it bothers you then it’s not nothing.” You push. “But....fine. I won’t force you to talk to me. I just wanted to see if you were ok... You’re not but it’s better than seeing you bleeding I suppose.” You grit your teeth, annoyed by the lack of results. You did tell him that he didn’t have to talk to you and you don’t hurt him further but part of you wants to fix this. Even if you don’t know what it is, your heart calls for justice at his pain.

But he is unwilling.

“Camp is this way by the way.” You mention, looking at the ground. “You were actually farther away than I thought, so it’s a bit of a walk.”

“I just think it’s easier for people when I’m not around.”

You still and slowly turn to face him.

He’s looking at the ground as well, unable to say it and look you in the eye. It’s not what you were expecting and you’re not sure how to follow after that.

It’s a rare moment of vulnerability for him- even rarer that he’s showing it to you and you don’t want to squander the show of trust.

“Back home...there was a lot of... attention on me. A lot of blame... for starting the war. Or at least being the cause of it.” He admits, scuffing his shoe against the dirt. A little bit kicks up and sticks to the toe. He does nothing about it. “People listened to what I had to say because I was some destined hero. At first I didn’t think anything of it because I had thought it was one big mistake and sooner or later people were going to see that I was just some soldier not worth the time of day. It happened to be pure luck that Impa got it right when she gave me this uniform. Zelda made me a captain because of it and suddenly I had all of these men I had to give orders to. And if anything failed or if we lost, it would all have fallen on me. The blame, the guilt, the responsibility of the war...and then we found out why Cia was even opening these portals to begin with-”

You hug him.

“Please don’t cry.” You say into his chest. Your throat is tight and it a little hard to breath but you power through. “I’m not good at this. I never have been.”

“I’m not going to cry. It’s not worth crying.”

“I’ll cry for you then.” You admit and hug him tighter. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. It was no ones fault.” Warrior hugs you back and rests his head on top of yours. His voice seems a little tight too and you’re sorry for all the things that he must have gone through.

You hug him for as long as you deem appropriate before letting your arms go lack and stepping away.

Or... at least you try to.

Warrior suddenly has a grip on you and refuses to let you leave.

“Please... Just stay a little longer.”

You do.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #I had no idea where exactly to go with this one #believe it or not I wrote Legends first.#I didn't know it would get as long as it did #are these a bit generic?#yes.#warrior's is also very long #sorry not sorry #should I have split this one?#probably.#did I?#no.#it took days ya'll #next time I'll split it again

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shego89notabot · 3 years

Text

Meet Cute

Pairing: James “Bucky” Barnes/Darcy Lewis

Rating: Teen and up audience (for swearing)

Warnings: Swearing; mild violence; Darcy’s taser can be used more than once (because in my world Tony never died and he totally hooked a girl up)

"And why were WE asked to play chauffeur to this scientist?"

Bucky was grumpy. He was beginning to think he maybe should have just said no to Sam. But, no, here he was traveling in the middle of the night to retrieve some scientist.

"Apparently Doctor Lewis is a friend of Thor. Known her since his first arrival and all. Bruce asked if we could make sure she was safe. Special favor." Sam patiently responded. He was getting used to the two moods of the man next to him, grumpy and grumpier.

"Friend, huh?"

Sam shrugged, "Friend. There has been recent, credible chatter about her. The not so friendly kind. She's being moved to another, secret location but Bruce is concerned enough to think she might need a little extra, temporary, protection."

Bucky gazed out the window. To be honest, it's not like he had anything else going on and Sam was a good guy and usually decent company, if annoying at times. When Sam had shown up out of the blue and asked if he'd like to help it didn't take long for him to pack a bag and join him.

Bruce had asked for their help. He liked Bruce. The big, green doctor was calm and sensible and one of the few people he could tolerate for long periods of time. If Bruce felt strongly enough about the threat to this scientist then he'd give him the benefit of the doubt.

Soon they were pulling into the parking lot of a small building. A van was parked haphazardly by an entrance which in and of itself was not alarming. What was alarming was a man lying on the ground not far from the door.

"Shit." Bucky muttered under his breath. Sam stopped the vehicle and the both jumped out, hands going in jackets for weapons.

They both cautiously made their way towards the door. "I'll see if there's another entrance," whispered Sam.

Bucky nodded, face grim as he checked the pulse of the downed man and finding he was still alive, merely unconscious, he watched as Sam rounded the corner then quietly headed to the door and put his back to the wall next to it. Listening, he heard loud voices from deeper within the building. He didn't hear anything closer so he turned quickly into the doorway, gun up.

Inside was a hallway with doors opening to either side, several feet from the entrance. The door on the left was open and that was where the noise and light was coming from. He walked over to it then stepped just inside to find a man grappling with a woman, the woman in question loudly cursing the larger male.

"You asshole! Let me go," she bites his arm.

"Ow, you bitch!" He then proceeds to throw her against a metal file cabinet and she falls to the side, stumbling, before grabbing a chair that was nearby and hitting him in the side with it. He grunts before pulling out a gun and aiming it at her head. She freezes, eyes big, then snaps her left arm up, shoving his gun hand up while bringing her right hand up from her side and shooting him in the center of his chest with her taser.

Bucky watches in slight awe as the small, dark haired woman smirks with satisfaction at the other man as falls, shuddering and drooling to the ground. "Lady Sif taught me that one, asshole!" Then she notices Bucky. " Oh, fudge. 3? Hey, I'm armed! Back off! ". She points the now expended taser at him.

Bucky gives her what he hopes is a reassuring smile then raises his left hand in surrender while putting his gun away. "Doctor Banner sent us. Are you Doctor Lewis?"

"Us?" Darcy looks confused for a moment before Sam pushes in through a second door at the other end of the room. Sam takes in the scene and, noticing the man still twitching in the ground, relaxed with a smile.

Darcy places her hand on her hip. "Wow, Dr. B sent in the big guns, huh? Well, you guys have any zip ties or anything? These two aren't going to restrain themselves."

"Two? " Bucky moved forward and peers down around the corner of a desk that had been blocking his view of a second unconscious man. His eyebrows shoot up and gets a good look at the woman in front of him. Long dark hair, blue eyes, full, generous lips and a pretty coke bottle figure under the turtleneck sweater and jeans she was wearing.

He watched as she tugged her crooked glasses back into place and bit her lip and gestures at the unconscious men and cocks her hip. "Yeah, these two. I mean, I used my taser on both of them so we have a little bit longer but it'd probably be best to get them restrained before they get themselves together."

Sam grabs a power cord off the table near him and proceeds to restrain the men while Bucky just stares back at the small doctor. Bucky steps forward, and extends his hand to Darcy, “James Barnes and this is Sam Wilson”. His breath catches as she gives a brilliant smile and shakes his hand. “Darcy Lewis. And it is a pleasure to meet you”.

Sam stands after tying up the goons and realizes she’s still holding Bucky’s hand and the two are just staring at each other. He clears his throat and smirks as the two startle a bit and blush - seriously, Bucky blushing?

“You might want to grab anything important so we can get out of here before their reinforcements arrive,” Sam says.

“Right!” Darcy smiles once more at Bucky then heads over to her computer.

Bucky watches her and quietly mutters to Sam, “Just how good a friend of Thor is she? Is she a friend or a friend friend?”

Sam shakes his head. “Why don’t you ask her? I’m going to walk outside and check on that guy in the parking lot”.

Sam leaves the room and Bucky shuffles his feet. She was just so pretty. But now was not the time to sit there and get goofy over a pretty face. She was just attacked and there might be more coming. His protective instincts kicked in and he strode over to her to see if he could either help or hurry her along.

“Um, can I help with anything?”

She flashes that dazzling smile at him again. “This is it. I learned years ago while I was working with Jane to keep all the important stuff close by.” She waved at the laptop in front of her then closes the laptop and puts it in a bag. “I’m all yours!”

Bucky grins at her statement and she blushes. “I mean I’m ready to go with you. Away from here. Ok. Um, this,” she lifts the bag, “is the important stuff. We can get the equipment later.”

Bucky is having a hard time reconciling this pretty, blushing woman with the badass that put down two men nearly twice her size but he’s loving it. He can’t get over how taken he is with her and wonders if when she’s safe would he, could he, ask her out.

He offers to hold her bag but she declines only to wince when she tries to put it on her shoulder. “Ow. Guess I’ll be bruised from that idiot. Can you help get this over my head?”. Bucky helps her get the strap over her head so the bag rests comfortably across her body and goes behind her and lifts the strap to free her hair from under it. “Comfy?” he asks and he’s dazzled again by her smile.

“You know, if this situation weren’t so serious I would totally ask you out for coffee or something.” She shrugs, “but I’m sure you have plenty things to keep up you busy-no time for that sort of thing, right?”

Bucky smiles, “I think I would like that. But maybe we can make it dinner and a picture, doll? Or some dancing?”. He offers Darcy his arm and she takes it.

“That sounds fantastic.”

“Um, I’m not gonna have some Norse God hunting me down for moving in on his girl, right?”

Darcy laughed. “No! He’s just a friend.”

“Well, then. It’s a date.”

#darcyland #darcy lewis #wintershock #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes

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allyouneedisbuck · 3 years

Text

Sole Survivor -> I

[eighteen plus blog and this fic holding eventual eighteen plus scenes mean minors should not interact with this story]

summary -> your first week on the island. alliances are made, rewards are won and tribes fall apart before they can even come together. [bucky barnes x female!reader]

word count -> 4.5k

warnings -> reality tv, some cursing, survivor references (tribe, tribal council, idols) past steve rogers x reader, non-enhanced marvel characters, jeff probst (please don’t sue me) some steve slander (steve i love you i’m sorry it was just so easy to make you the sweetest person alive and therefore a target)

notes -> there are more in-depth notes at the end! just want to say this is all for fun & not meant to be a serious fic!! just some fluff & humor as a break to any serious fics out there that you may be reading!

series masterlist here.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

Chapter I 𓆉 OUTWIT -> NEXT

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

Bucky isn’t sure how he ended up on reality TV.

That’s all he can think about as his hand grips the side of the speedboat and he glances around at his fellow contestants.

His first application to Survivor had been a dare; One of his friends back home had made a drunken joke that Bucky wouldn’t last a day and well- Obviously, Bucky can’t really take a joke.

How was he supposed to know he would actually be selected? How was he supposed to know he would be a fan favorite...villian? Saying yes to this season was a no-brainer.

He wants the million dollars. He came so, so close last time. Runner-up wasn’t good enough.

He had been handed a dark, red buff long before they had even stepped foot on the boat. He had wrapped it around his wrist, just like everybody else on this boat with him. His eyes move around slowly as he studies his new tribe members.

The bright red hair catches his eye first, Natasha Romanoff, was considered the original Black Widow; It’s no shock to Bucky that she had been considered a villain. Her starting point was aligning with the men on her tribe and helping pick who she wanted out. It worked for awhile, she had them under her thumb, until she got a little too abrasive and was voted off shortly after the merge.

Clint Barton who Bucky knew was notorious for promising on his kids then stabbing his allies in the back; In the final tribal he had laughed and said they gave him permission. Somehow he had won. Him and Natasha had worked together, but he had been unable to save her after the merge.

His eyes find Tony Stark next, an original player, meaning had had never played a game with idols or tricks. Tony had won it all on the third season after betraying his number one ally in the vote that decided who he brought to final two. Bucky didn’t need to ask why he was a villain, it was obvious.

Bright red lips catch Bucky’s eyes next as he checks out Darcy Lewis. Bucky wasn’t actually sure if he considered her a villain, but he can see how it played out that way. She had kept her immunity idol secret from her alliance members and had jumped ship when it became clear her alliance wouldn’t win the numbers. She made it all the way to final three after winning puzzle after puzzle in the immunity challenges, she was more impressive than villainous, but sometimes they just needed some people to fill the cast.

Loki was the king of snake gameplay, but even Bucky could admit it got him far. His ability to tell people exactly what they wanted to hear is what handed him the million dollar prize. Bucky wonders if they called Thor too, they had been on the last season, Blood versus Water together.

There’s Stephen Strange who was probably considered a villain for his dry commentary, blunt confessionals and inability to keep his thoughts to himself. He was from the first few seasons too and he had rubbed a lot of people the wrong way, but Bucky found his blunt delivery humorous.

And then there’s you. You had originally appeared on Brains, Brawns and Beauty. Unshockingly sorted onto the Beauty tribe and gravely underestimated. Bucky thought you were definitely the prettiest he’d seen in that season and early on he could tell you would be a power player. No matter how many confessionals men did saying your charm wouldn’t work, they all fell for it, and you picked them off. Your tribe only lost one immunity challenge and you had controlled who had gone home.

Steve Rogers had fallen in love with you that season and you had taken a page from Natasha’s book. When the merge had happened, you aligned quickly with the few girls left from the other two tribes. Then knocked the men out one by one. Steve, poor Steve, so kind hearted and trusting and it had been his downfall. When you had sobbed to him about the last three girls whispering about voting you out, he had given up his earned individual immunity. The four of you girls had laughed as you wrote his name down and Steve went onto the jury.

That was the moment that coined you one of the most notorious, and your unanimous win later had marked you down in history as one of the best to ever play.

Call Bucky an idiot, but you’re who he wants to work with. He needs to work with people who will make it to the end with him. His original season he had come off too cocky to win. He had made the mistake of taking who he thought was a floater, but apparently had built friendships with everyone, and lost in a three to six vote. Bringing someone who knew how to play the game like him gave him a far better chance at winning.

The heroes tribe are already on their blue mat when the villains disembark and make their way onto the beach. Bucky almost laughs when he sees Steve standing in the back, tall and broad as ever. Of course the fans loved Steve. Sweet, loyal Steve. He nudges your calf with his foot and you spin to look at him in surprise.

“Your lover is here.” He nods over to the mat, where Steve is staring straight ahead at Jeff Probst. You laugh with your head thrown back like it’s genuinely one of the funniest things you’ve heard.

“Didn’t you hear? It was a nasty divorce.” You smile before stopping in front of Bucky on the mat. Bucky snorts and drops his bag by his feet as Jeff calls for everyone’s attention.

“We’ve been doing Survivor for thirty seasons now. Fifteen years. Hundreds of people have played the game, yet the sixteen of you have made your mark as either hero or villain.” His eyes scan over the group before landing on Bucky.

“Bucky. You played this game six years ago. Season 18. How does it feel that even though it’s been that long, you’re still considered one of the most well known villains?”

“I’m a villain?” Bucky asks sarcastically as he looks around the beach. The crowd laughs and you look up at him with amused eyes. Bucky tries to ignore the flutter in his heart, damn you were good. “It’s all in the perspective, Jeff.”

Jeff laughs and nods before his attention shifts to Loki standing a few people away from you. “Loki, you’re our newest villain. Coming out of last season, how does it feel to be here with all these iconic names? Intimidating?”

Loki laughs and nods. “I guess so, yeah. I’m just so happy to actually play with people who love and respect the game the same way I do!” He looks over the group in a far more calculating manner than friendly.

“And heroes! Peter, you’re our newest hero on the tribe. Coming off a win that you got through heart and loyalty.” Jeff explains, like everybody here didn’t already know how much of a blatantly good guy Peter Parker was. Three years ago when given the decision to choose between a floater and his ally who was an equally as strong competitor, he had chosen to bring Ned to the final two. It had won him a million dollars. “You intimidated at all? Or should they be?”

Peter looks around bashfully. “Yeah! No, I’m intimidated, you know? I’m not the only winner here. These are all some strong people, I definitely will have to work hard to stay.” He answers humbly.

Bucky resists the urge to roll his eyes at the answer. “Okay. Anybody think we got it wrong? That you’re on the wrong tribe?” Jeff asks and immediately half the villains raise their hands.

The heroes and Jeff laugh. “What did we do, Jeff?” You call out in a flirtatious tone. “What’d we do that was so bad?” Bucky can’t see your face, but he would bet his life that there’s a pout there.

“Come on, Y/N.” Jeff says your name incredulously. “You are definitely one of the best, but you single handedly led one of the greatest all female alliances in the history of this game and picked off who you wanted one by one.”

You turn your head to look and the heroes tribe and Bucky can see Steve, Sharon and Shuri, all from your season, watching you. Bucky isn’t sure who made the worst move, Steve giving up his immunity and sending you to final three or Shuri for bringing you to final two with her. Loyalty could be your downfall or saving grace in this game, Bucky’s learned, it just depends on your jury. “Steve!” Jeff calls out. “Y/N. Hero or villain?”

“Villain.” Steve answers quickly with a forced laugh. You shrug and turn to look at Jeff. “I outwitted him. Is that being a villain or playing the game of outwit, outplay, outlast?”

Jeff laughs. “Okay, guys. Do you want to get to your first challenge?” The group looks around at each other extremely confused. It was rare a challenge was played the first day on the island, normally tribes were sent to begin working on shelter before it got too dark.

It’s a physical game. There are eight lanes, each lane has one weighted bag buried in it. In pairs of two, each tribe would go out to the selected lane and dig. Whoever brought the bag back to their tribe won a point and it was first to four points to win.

After an hour, it’s tied, three to three and the only pair to have not gone twice is you and Natasha. You’re against Shuri and Carol, Bucky is a little nervous, but he thinks you two can win this. Shuri was known for her agility and Carol for her strength, but Bucky had faith in your ability to play dirty. “Go!” Jeff’s arms drop down and all four women are darting through the sand.

Bucky can’t stop his eyes from trailing over your body, knelt down in the sand as you quickly dig. You had stripped off your shorts and long sleeve now only in your bikini top and bottoms, the red buff wrapped around your wrist.

He knows why it had been so easy for the men of your beauty tribe to fall at your feet. The way your legs look in the sand and sun has him wanting to kneel for you. He just hopes you want to work with him too.

Natasha pulls the bag out. Carol dives for her legs and sends her face first to the ground. Shuri follows soon after and both of them are fighting with Natasha as you stand back.

Good. Bucky thinks. Let them tire themselves out, then you have the strength to get it away and get the point.

Shuri gets the bag in her hands and makes a mad dash down the lanes, but your arm wraps around her waist and yanks her back into your chest as your other hand moves to yank at the bag.

Natasha gets up and holds Carol back with two hands around the waist. “Push, Shuri! Push!” Steve screams out. Bucky rolls his eyes at the nonsensical advice.

“Sweep her feet out!” Bucky’s voice overpowers the rest of his tribe. Your eyes meet his briefly. “She’s tired! She’s burnt out. She won’t get up quick enough!”

Your hands grip at the bag tightly and you swipe a leg underneath Shuri’s feet. Her knees give out and the bag is easily yanked away from her weak grip.

“Yes!” Your tribe screams as you reach the mat and Jeff calls out. “Villains win first immunity!” Bucky’s hand lands on your lower back and you turn to look up at him happily. He hopes you can see the praise in his eyes because that performance? That’s why he wants to work with you.

You - Villain Tribe

“Looking at my tribe, we’re pretty stacked. We’re good. Heroes don’t have a chance.” You throw your head back in a laugh. “Is it awful I’m excited to take a million dollars away from Steve again?”

Steve Rogers - Hero Tribe

“It uh- It sucks to lose. I hate losing. It sucks even more that we lost to the villains. I don’t want to vote any of our people out yet, we all deserve to be here. It just sucks.”

Day Two

You had underestimated how tense camp would be with men who had been used to leading their tribes in the past. Tony wanted to build shelter on flat land and Bucky thought sturdy trees for a sturdy base was more important.

Bucky was right, of course. You knew he was in construction, you had watched his season, and had seen the impressive shelter he had helped build. Tony just couldn’t get over himself, but that was no shock. You would use his pride as a chance to move forward in this game.

“They’re just being idiots.” You say softly as you and Bucky try to start a fire. Nothing is really working and the sun will set soon, defeat settles between you two. “Don’t let them get to you.”

You eye his metal arm. It had been what made him a favorite early on, way before he even got his villain marker. His story of a car crash that had resulted in the lost of his left arm and a generous doctor that had worked to give him this new age prosthetic.

“‘M not.” He mutters angrily as the smoke blows out and chance at a fire slips further and further away. “Just… fuck… Just annoyed at myself for not being able to get this.”

You look over your shoulder. “And at the fact that we’ll be sleeping in a shit hole tonight.” You shake your head. Bucky snorts and nods before falling onto his back and dropping the kindle that he had been attempting to light on fire.

Your eyes trail over his abdomen, put on display by his shirt that has ridden up in his new position. You bite down on your lip as your eyes trail over his thighs before you remember that the camera men are only a few feet away and caught every second of your staring.

You clear your throat and move to sit next to him. “I think we’d work well together.” You say just above a whisper. You glance over your shoulder again, but the rest of the tribe is too busy arguing over the shelter.

Bucky looks up at you hesitantly. “Yeah?” He asks just as softly. “Not gonna break my heart right?” He gives you a teasing smile that makes your breath catch.

You shrug and stand up, offering a hand to him. “No promises. I can’t stop you from falling in love with me.” You giggle, partly for the show of it but also because Bucky’s hand is huge in yours and makes your stomach flip.

He laughs and the two of you turn back and begin walking towards the shelter. Right before you reach it and have to go your separate ways, Bucky taps your back. “I think we would too.”

You - Villain Tribe

“Getting my claws on Bucky first is the best thing for my game. He’ll be loyal to me longer than anybody else.” You smile. “And Bucky is the best guy here. Tony may be an OG but he played like thirteen years ago. Strange is kind of cold. Clint and Natasha played together, he’ll be loyal to her before me. And Loki plays a game too similar to mine.” You shrug like it’s a no brainer.

Bucky Barnes - Villain Tribe

“I came to win this time, okay? No more aligning with underdogs. No more just physicality getting me to the end. I need strategy and she’s the best strategist to ever play this game.” Bucky smirks. “Just ask Steve Rogers.”

Day Three

It’s pouring rain by the time both tribes get to the challenge. Bucky had been right, of course he had. The shelter was weak and the rain was destroying it. It would need to be rebuilt when you returned to camp and he could only hope the rain stops long enough to allow him to build a real shelter.

“Heroes will be with me at tribal council.” Jeff explains. “So, today, you are playing for reward. Wanna see what you’re playing for?”

The entire tribe is huddled together in an attempt to keep warm as Jeff explains the challenge and reward. He lifts a cover to reveal a tarp, blankets, pillows and flint. Bucky almost groans at the sight. They needed this win. “I’ll give you a minute to strategize.” Jeff waves them off.

It’s almost every type of challenge in one. Physical, logical and strategical. Six members would build a boat from the pieces given then sail out to retrieve all the puzzle pieces from where they were clipped on buoys. Then bring them back to the remaining two members who would work on the puzzle. First to solve it wins.

“Darcy and I can work on the puzzle.” You say quickly with Darcy nodding along. Bucky and the rest of the tribe agree and get to their starting places.

It’s a crazy adrenaline rush when Jeff yells for everyone to go. “Heroes take an early lead!” Jeff narrates as they push their boat out onto the water. Bucky can feel his tribemates settle in defeat.

“Let’s fucking go!” He urges, forcing the last piece of the boat into place. He and Clint push the boat out before climbing in beside the rest of the villains. Bucky tries to drown out Jeff’s commentary, but it’s hard when every few seconds he’s pointing out the major lead the heroes are creating. “Nobody panic. They’ve got Steve on the puzzle.”

That gets a small, tense laugh out of the group as the heroes boat reaches shore again and the villains remain collecting puzzle pieces.

Hope fizzles in Bucky’s chest when he hears your’s and Darcy’s cheers and the arguing of Steve and Carol, both placed on puzzle and both having different tactics.

“The villains are coming from behind!” Jeff says in an impressed tone as they finally push their boat to shore. “The heroes just can’t figure out this puzzle and are losing their huge lead.”

“Yeah, thanks!” Shuri calls out annoyed from the sidelines as Bucky hands off the bag of puzzle pieces to you. You dump them out and you and Darcy immediately start to spread them out to look.

“Wow! Heroes just cannot get this puzzle figured out!” Jeff shakes his head. Steve and Carol continue to argue and yank pieces away from one another. “Villains have made a remarkable comeback!” You and Darcy seem to be communicating amazingly and pieces just fall into place.

“Jeff! Jeff!” You scream out excitedly as Darcy stuffs the last piece into place and you two step back. Jeff looks at the puzzle for a moment before throwing his arms up. “Villains win reward!”

Everybody screams in excitement and Bucky immediately turns to you. “Fuck!” He says excitedly as you jump up, legs wrapping around his waist. He wraps an arm under your thighs and tries hard to ignore how good they feel wrapped around him. “Darcy!” He waves her over into a half hug. “Puzzle queens! Puzzle queens!” He cheers, the tribe following in suit.

They’re allowed to celebrate for a few more seconds as the heroes groan until producers force them back onto their designated mats. “Villains. Take your tarp and flint, pillows and blankets will be delivered once the rain stops.” Everybody rushes forward as you take the tarp and flint into your hands.

“Heroes I got nothing for you. Except your trip to tribal right now.” Bucky glances over his shoulder as the heroes stare at Jeff in shock. “Yep! You lost immunity on day one and have had two days to discuss, grab your stuff and follow me.”

Bucky and you laugh with each other as you make your way back to camp.

Shuri - Hero Tribe

“I’m just so… I told them to put me on the puzzle. Put me! Who won three puzzle challenges her season? I’m just so angry. We had such a good lead and we lost it because nobody wanted to listen to each other and everybody wanted to be a leader. Now somebody who deserves to be here has to go home while the villains live lavishly.”

Day Five

Your tribe wins reward again.

After the shocking reveal of Carol being voted out at the first tribal council, villains are perplexed. Carol had been strong, furthest from being the weakest link who was usually voted off first.

You know that’s what being on the wrong side of the numbers will get you.

This time it’s fishing gear. It sends a morale boost throughout the tribe. You grin as you watch Bucky reluctantly walk ahead with Tony.

Tony had latched onto Bucky after Bucky had helped create a better shelter. And once they had secured the tarp and loaded in the blankets and pillows, it was like a five star resort to the already tired and hungry tribe.

You can see Natasha fall in line with you in your peripheral vision and try to hide your smirk. “You’re good.” She murmurs.

You look straight ahead and shrug. “What makes you say that?”

“You and Bucky almost never go off together. Barely talk outside of groups at camp. Really only interact during challenges.” She says quietly. The group is far ahead and most likely couldn't hear if you spoke in normal tones, but you appreciate her caution. “He’s wrapped around your finger though.”

You almost stop, but refuse to let her see you stumble. She was right, you and Bucky were exceedingly cautious when it came to associating with each other at camp. “You think so? He has a crush?” You ask softly. “He’s cute, right? Not too bad.” You feign ignorance.

Natasha smirks. “Yeah.” Her hand wraps around your arm and pulls you to a stop with her. “Listen. It’s Tony and Strange on one side. You and Bucky on the other. We’ve been winning, so nobody is going to admit their alliances, but I’d rather be prepared for our first loss.”

You nod. “What are you saying?” You knew Tony and Stephen would team up. They were both considered original survivors, coming out of the first few seasons and still working on understanding this new version of the game.

“Clint and I can be numbers.” She says steadily. You lick your lips. Clint and Natasha had done Micronesia together. He had been the only one to not write her name down when she was eliminated. She had voted for him to win. It’s not a surprise they had fallen into working together again. “We protect each other. Final Four, after that we’re on our own.”

“I’ll have to speak with Bucky.” You begin to walk again. “But that sounds like a good deal to me.” You give her a small smile.

Natasha Romanoff - Villain Tribe

“I’m not an idiot. I know Y/N plays this game loyal to herself only. But I’m playing a strategic game. Clint and I make it to the merge with her numbers then we can flip of we need to.”

You - Villain Tribe

“Final four?” You scoff. “Please. Two person alliance versus two person alliance in the final four? I’m not trying to draw rocks. Four people is good and then we’ll make the merge and I’ll work my magic.”

“I’m gonna get some firewood.” Your foot knocks against Bucky’s ankle. When he looks up from his spot on the ground, you subtly nod your head in the direction of the jungle.

“I can help. It’s getting dark, better two than one.” He stands up. Nobody acknowledges your exit but Nat, who smirks at you before looking back at the rice cooking over the fire.

You two walk in silence, making sure to be out of earshot before stopping to talk quickly. “Natasha and Clint want to work with us. Final four.”

Bucky looks over his shoulder in the direction of camp before looking back at you. “We can promise them the merge. Final four with a two person alliance as solid as their’s is suicide.”

You look up at Bucky and laugh. Did he think you were dumb? “I know that.” You say slowly. “We should just agree to the final four then get rid of them after the merge.”

Bucky huffs out a breath. “That’s smart, but how do you know we won’t be turned on if we vote them out? How do you know Darcy and Loki aren’t already four with Strange and Tony?” His nerves are reasonable, but they make you want to laugh.

You shake your head instead staring up at him with reassuring eyes. “They won’t be. I’ve talked with Darcy a little bit. Plus, Loki works the swing vote angle as long as he can. You watched him last season, it’s how he made it so far.”

“Okay.” Bucky agrees slowly. “So, we work with Clint and Natasha and work on getting Loki as a swing vote? What if they turn on us? These people’s word means jack.” Bucky’s arm shifts and your eyes immediately trail over it curiously. Did it do that when he was nervous? Was it normal?

“Don’t worry.” You place a gentle hand on his arm, you wondered how the metal didn’t heat in the sun the same way a metal slide would. Questions for a later time. “There are hidden immunity idols, Buck. We just have to find them.”

You walk past him then, picking wood up as you go. The cameras stay on Bucky, who you can feel staring after you.

Men were so easy.

Bucky Barnes - Villain Tribe

“She’s… She’s got it all mapped out. To the end. She’s not playing this bullshit tribe first, individual later game. She’s here to win. It’s hot.” He blushes before his eyes widen in realization. “I could win this.”

Day Six

The immunity challenge is grueling. Large crates in the tribe’s color have to be rolled from one end of the field to the other by two people. Six crates in total and Jeff had evened the teams out so each tribe only had six people playing, meaning each pair would go out twice no matter what.

Tony and Darcy had opted to sit out, and each pair had to go out twice. Bucky knew this would kill everyone, it had looked downright brutal long before Jeff shouted Go.

Bucky can be the first to admit maybe the team didn’t strategize correctly when choosing pairs. While he and Loki were able to bring the first crate back before the heroes, Clint and Stephen slow the group down. Once the heroes build momentum, they’ve got the lead. You and Natasha struggle to catch up.

By the sixth crate, everybody is downright exhausted. Bucky can’t even comprehend how the heroes had gotten through all six crates so fast.

“Villains start your puzzle.” Jeff calls out. Bucky thinks this is worse than the running. These crates are almost as tall as he is and definitely weighed damn near close too.

Setting the first two in place would be fine, the last four? Pure hell. They had to be lifted into place and Bucky wasn’t sure his tribe could do it. Not when Steve was already lifting crates up for the heroes and sticking them in place like it was nothing.

“Heroes with a huge lead!” Jeff narrates excitedly from the sidelines. “Can the villains catch up?”

“Fuck this.” Bucky mutters taking a step back. His back hits something soft - you. You nails trail up his spine and he shivers before turning to look down at you. “That piece then that piece?” You point out and Bucky turns to look.

Loki and Clint have the first piece in place. Natasha and Strange are pushing the second. Two pieces have to be lifted next and you seem to have cracked the code.

“You’re so smart.” He punches your shoulder affectionately before yelling out. He starts calling out directions and suddenly everything seems to have fallen into place. The villains tribe is quiet and works together easily while the heroes fall apart, again.

“Villains win immunity!” Jeff calls out again and the heroes fall into dismay. Yelling and arguing with one another even more. “That means the heroes will once again see me at tribal council. I’ll give you the afternoon to discuss, head on out.”

Bucky carries the immunity trophy back to camp with a bright smile. These first few days couldn’t have gone any better. A winning streak, set alliance, and final two plan?

He was winning this time. No doubt about it.

Peter Parker - Hero Tribe

“It just sucks because… because now they’re talking about sending Steve home instead of like - Sharon. She’s smart, but she’s just not the strongest person here and we obviously need a stronger tribe.”

Steve Rogers - Hero Tribe

“A line was drawn in the sand last tribal. Scott, Wanda and I on one side. Shuri, Peter, Sharon and Thor on the other. Now it’s just who they want to go home and I hope it’s not me.”

Thor Odinson - Hero Tribe

“There’s talk of Steve going home, but I… I don’t know if that’s what will be best for us. We need our strong players and he’s strong! I’m gonna talk to them and see what I can do. We just… We just can’t lose strong people. We’ll get our asses handed to us.”

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

notes // you can probably tell, but until the merge, you won’t get inside on the heroes tribe. the focus of this is bucky & reader on their tribe. the confessionals are really you’re only hint to anybody else’s train of thought! i’m excited to explore this, it’s really just for fun & not meant to be a super serious fic. a break from harsh angst and all that! i hope you enjoy it, even just a little! the next part will have more to it & it will get more interesting! this is meant as an introduction, a season premiere if you will. :))

& if you’ve watched the real heroes vs villains season you’ll notice a lot of this follows after that set up, like the challenges and eliminations, but i’ve written it around these characters and personalities!

my writing is free & will remain free! but if you have the resources and enjoyed it, consider donating to my ko-fi :) & if that’s not possible consider reblogging or leaving comments! spreading my work or letting me know you enjoyed it means the world to me & lets me know i’m not shouting into the void!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes au #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #survivor au #bucky barnes x fem!reader #steve rogers

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jadedxrealityw · 3 years

Text

-Betrayed- Draco Malfoy x Female Reader

♡~🐍~♡

Request: Hi Kody! Can you do a jealous/protectv Draco where you're dating but every boy likes you and thinks you're super pretty and cute even though you're a Slytherin and you're always getting stare from boys especially your childhood best friend Lorenzo who also has a crush on you. He like pulls you aside to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom from Draco one day and touches you and you scream for Draco and that like the sectumsempra scene except as soon as Draco shows up and tries to help you, Enzo crucios you?

Kody: Woke up and chose violence huh?

Year: 7th

House: Slytherin

Possible Triggers/Warnings: cursing, Draco being the badass protective boyfriend he is, attempted sexual assault, wack ass best friends, reader harm.

♡~🐍~♡

saturday mornings were always the best. The weekend was starting and you were ready to just hang out with friends and spend some much loved quality time with Draco, your boyfriend. Yes. You, Y/n L/n were in a very loving relationship with the Slytherin prince himself.

you remembered the day he asked you to be his girlfriend quite clearly. He was so surprised you said yes, saying things along the lines of “But your so out of my league” or “are you really sure” it took you a total of 15 minutes to convince him that you indeed wanted to be with him.

now half a year later you both were the power couple of the school with people labeling you as the “hottest slytherin girl” which you found quite creepy. Boys always had there eyes on you and it wasn’t always the most pleasant feeling to be watched, unless it was Draco. Then you liked the attention.

Draco especially didn’t like the looks guys gave you, calling them “horny bastards” and other insults. At least you had one normal guy friend (or so you thought). Lorenzo. He was your childhood best friend and couldn’t imagine your life without him.

your boyfriend sure could. Draco knew Lorenzo was just like all the rest of the guys at Hogwarts. A horny bastard. He gave you the weirdest, lustful looks when you weren’t looking, but Draco was. He had tried to tell you about Lorenzo, but you always reassured him that it was just his jealousy getting to him.

Draco would unfortunately be proven right today.

♡~🐍~♡

“Darling, it’s time to get up” Draco slowly shook your unconscious body. You start to stir, until your e/c eyes open up. As soon as you see Draco, you smile “Hi” you whisper in a tired morning voice. He cracks a smile and leans down to plant a chaste kiss to your lips.

you had stayed in Draco’s dorm the night before because well- why not? “Do i have too?” you ask. not wanting to ruin the perfect position you were in at the moment. He lets out a quiet snicker before nodding his head “yes, my love. Now lets get ready. I’m sure you’ve left enough clothes here.”

Draco pulls the black duvet off of his body and gets out of bed. You groan in frustration before getting up yourself. “Stupid mornings” you grumble, your boyfriend laughing at your childish behavior. “I know dear, so sad” he puts on a mock pout as he reaches down to pull his shirt off.

you take a second glance at his toned chest. Hot damn. He raises a brow, a smirk plastered on his face “Eyes up here Y/n or i’ll give you something to look at” his tone was low and demanding. A shiver ran up your spine as you walk over to one of the drawers, face flushed.

you dig out a dark green sweater, a light green plaid tennis skirt and black stockings. You began to put on your clothes and Draco did as well. The whole process only took about ten minutes. Once you slipped the skirt on, you felt a pair of hands grip your waist.

a quick kiss was placed behind your ear “You look stunning. I wish no one else could see you this way” he whispers, his warm breath hitting the back of your neck. You let out a small whine “Can we hurry up and leave, so we can hurry up and get back”

he chuckles deeply and lets go of your waist, only to grip your hand. “I can agree with that” he opens his door and you both head out.

♡~🐍~♡

walking down the hall, you feel Draco’s hand grip yours tighter “Honey, calm down before you break my ring finger” you spoke in a sickenly sweet tone. You tug your hand away and pout. He looks over at you and sighs deeply “I’m sorry, it’s just hard to not kill every male in this school”

what a big baby “I know, but i’m all yours, remember that” you nod once. A smile graces his lips at your words as he looks forward. “Thank you Y/n. Sorry for overreacting again- Y/n?” he spoke, when he had turned to look at you once again. You were gone.

as Draco spoke someone grabbed your arm and had pulled you into Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. You squealed loudly and hit whoever had dragged you in here. “Ouch! Y/n what the hell?!” wait- you knew that voice. You look behind yourself and saw Lorenzo.

you let out a small laugh “Enzo! i’m sorry! You scared me. Real funny by the way” you chuckle. “I need to talk to you about something” he speaks seriously, which catches you off guard. “Okay? Sure” you shrug your shoulders nonchalantly.

his eyes wander your body a little to long as he gulps. Strange. “We’ve been friends a long time Y/n” he starts, stepping forward towards you. You nod with a small smile “Of course we have silly” he cracks a smile. “and i know everything about you and vise versa”

another step forward. You back up a bit. “Uh huh?” you say, a little unsure about where this conversation was going. He seemed to be at loss of words for a moment. Before you could say anything else he had pinned you against the bathroom wall.

your eyes widened in shock and you instantly went to push him away “Enzo?! What the fuck!? Get off of me!” you shout, using your hands to shove his chest, but he was way stronger than you. His hand went to your thigh, running it over the stockings “You’re so beautiful Y/n” he whispered into your ear.

a terrible feeling churned in your stomach. You felt sick. Why was he doing this? “Let me go!” you protest, tears forming in the corner of your eyes. His hand gets dangerously close to your- yeah. “Why can’t you love me the way you love-” “DRACO!” you shout, his eyes go wide.

not even a slip second later your Slytherin boyfriend busts through the door. His eyes scan the sight and he looks furious “Get the bloody hell off my girlfriend you sick fuck!” venom laced with each word. While Enzo is distracted you duck under his arm.

Enzo pulls out his wand and points it at Draco “Crucio!” he yells. Draco dodges the spell and rushes over to you “Are you alright?” he asked, grabbing your hand. You nod, which relieves him in some way. “You don’t deserve her! I’ve known her longer!” Enzo shouts Crucio again.

Draco went to reach for his wand, but it’s too late. You drop to the floor, letting out a blood curdling scream. One that makes his heart tug harshly. “Y/n!” he drops to the floor as your body spasmed violently. Enzo dropped his wand and went to walk over to you.

before Enzo could take another step Draco protectively grabs your body and pulls you closer to him by your waist “Stay the fuck away you piece of fucking shit! Never show your face to me or Y/n again i will end you! Remember this, your only alive because your her friend! Now fucking go!”

your friend looked hurt by his words, but Draco was right in every word he said. Enzo collected his wand and left the bathroom. The pain had started to subside, but small whines and whimpers left your mouth, body shivering. He held your held close to his chest.

“Fuck. i’m so sorry darling. I promise the pain will go away just breathe” he tries to give you a reassuring smile, but tears spilled out instead. “Shit” he cursed and scooped your body in his arms. He stands up and makes his way out the bathroom.

♡~🐍~♡

he walked out, gazing at your face. It was tear stained and your eyes were shut tightly. “Malfoy?” his head snapped to the direction of the voice. Great the golden trio. Just peachy. “Piss o..off” he hissed like second nature, but his voice was cracked and hoarse. Harry looked irritated by his choice of words.

“What’s happened to Y/n? Why is she shivering?” Hermione spoke up, pushing past the two Gryffindor boys in front of her. Draco looked away from her and at your face. His brain couldn’t function at the moment, unable to form words. “Draco? What. Happened?”

Hermione spoke in a calm tone. She could clearly tell Draco was distressed, which was the cause of his silence. He sniffles before answering “C..Cruciatus curse. I..i was to slow..” he started to sputter. Hermione nods, smiling lightly “We need to bring her to the hospital wing. Okay?”

Draco looked back and forth between both girls before nodding “O..Okay.” he repeats. Ron and Harry were confused as all hell about what was going on, but followed Hermione as she led Draco to the hospital wing where you could be treated.

♡~🐍~♡

your eyes slowly opened. You saw white all around you. Where the hell were you at right now? As your eyes adjusted, the room started to look familiar. The hospital wing. “Madam pomfrey?” you spoke, expecting her to be near enough to hear. “Love?” that was not a woman's voice.

you turn your head slowly to the left and see a very disheveled Draco Malfoy sitting in a chair next to the bed you were occupying. “A small smile forms on your face “Draco? You look terrible” he laughs quietly, grabbing your hand “I know. It’s been a rough day”

you nod slowly, the memories of the previous events flooding your head like a harsh tidal wave. Enzo. He had betrayed you in the worst way possible. “It has. I’m sorry i worried you so much” a pout replaced your smile. He shakes his head “No, dont say sorry. It’s that bastards fault. He hurt you”

“What happened to Enzo by the way? Is he in trouble?” you asked. Even if he did hurt you, he was still somebody important to you. “Granger ended up reporting him to Dumbledore on her own accord. He was expelled two hours later.” you looked slightly confused.

“Hermione? Since when were you friendly with a Gryffindor” you asked. He rolls his eyes with a small grin “Oh yes. Potter and Weasley as well. I was a bit out of sorts when they found me with you so they guided me here. Helped me” he explained, his eyes averting to your hand in his.

“I’ll have to thank them later then” You say, a crash is heard outside the door “No need!” Hermione yelled through the door. You chuckled as Draco narrowed his eyes “Get away from the door! Come back later!” he shouts. Shuffling was heard and a array of footsteps running away.

“Come back later? Is this friendship i smell?” you say with a smug smile. He rolls his grey eyes as he plants a quick kiss on your lips “Maybe” he spoke, making you smile brightly.

“I heard a maybe!”

“Ron!”

♡~🐍~♡

Kody: Boom done. Had to add a bit of funny hunny at the end. My scoliosis is kicking in so in fear that my spine is going to turn into a wet noodle. Drink some water, eat some food, touch some grass. yeah i see you reading smut. Anyways, peace.

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phantom-curve · 3 years

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For @panickosdisordr2, set in a high school AU where everyone is alive, I give you absolutely flustered Luke and poor, sweet, long-suffering Julie.

#38: stroking their leg & #41: sitting close and knees touching

Luke was still getting used to the fact that being Julie’s boyfriend meant he didn’t have to be so nervous about touching her anymore. For so long he had been forced to overthink every single interaction with her, needing to constantly toe the line of friendship even when he wanted so much more. Every touch, every lingering glance, had to be just this side of friendly. And no, he wasn’t always successful. Quite often his glances lingered a beat too long and his touches came close to being more proprietary than he had any right acting as a friend. Luke had made a list of rules to keep himself in check and he repeated them over and over before, during, and after he spent time with Julie.

Rule #1: No looking at Julie for longer than 30 60 seconds.

(30 seconds had been the goal, but who was he kidding? Julie was a freaking wrecking ball of musical talent and wickedly beautiful. 45 seconds was the absolute minimum he could handle, and even that was kind of pushing it.)

Rule #2: No writing blatantly obvious songs about Julie.

(Because really, every song was about Julie. But Julie didn’t need to know every song was about her. And Alex and Reggie really, really didn’t need to know, and no, just because they guessed didn’t mean they knew.)

Rule #3: No looking at Julie’s lips unless there was a microphone between them.

(He barely managed this one, which was why he kept sharing the mic with her more and more the longer they practiced and the more comfortable they became preforming together. It was the best kind of torture, and it wasn’t creepy, Alex, pay attention to drumming and not front people stuff!)

Rule #4: No touching Julie except for her shoulders and her arms and her waist (but only if they were hugging!)

(So what if Luke made sure to hug Julie a lot. He was a touchy-feely kind of guy, everyone knew that, and he only hugged someone after making sure they were okay with it. Julie never pushed him away, in fact she seemed to like the fact that he was so open with affection and comfort. It was fine.)

But dating Julie meant that all of those rules went right out the window. And Luke was still figuring out how to navigate that.

Julie didn’t seem to have any problems on her end. She slipped seamlessly from best friend to girlfriend without missing a beat. She would lean into him when they sat next to each other during lunch and move his hair out of his face without hesitation as she gazed into his eyes with a million stars dancing in her own. Her touch was casual but affectionate, her fingertips almost always finding some patch of skin to skim across whenever he was within arm’s reach. She kissed her way along his skin with an enviable ease, never holding back because she wasn’t sure he would like it, but instead blazing a path along his cheek or his collarbone or molding her lips against his as if she had always known that was what he so desperately desired most in the world.

Luke would never tell her, but part of his hesitation was because he felt wholly undeserving of her unwavering devotion. What had he ever done to earn someone as bright and beautiful as Julie Molina? He knew if he told her, she would have a million and one reasons why he was wrong, so he mostly kept it to himself and reveled in her easy affection every chance that he got. He should have known that eventually she would call him out on it.

“Luke...do you...not want me to touch you?”

He just hadn’t expected her to ask like that.

They were working on a new song out in the studio, a place Julie had chosen that he had assumed was because she didn’t want Carlos bothering them and because they had easier access to their instruments out there. They were sharing the couch, sitting across from each other with a shared notebook open between them, offering different lyric ideas back and forth as they tried to nail down the right lines. Luke hadn’t even realized that Julie had slowly been moving closer. He had only registered the feeling of their knees brushing occasionally, skin touching skin because his jeans were ripped, and she was wearing a pair of shorts to combat the stifling LA heat. Every time she had leaned in, he had leaned back, his years long set of rules so engrained he had forgotten that he didn’t have to follow them anymore. It was only when Julie quietly posed her question, teeth peeking out to bite down on her lower lip, cute little top gap flashing at him and reminding him that she was his girlfriend now, that he realized what he had been doing.

“Julie, no, of course I want you to touch me!”

Luke felt himself flush from head to toe as he realized how his words had sounded. He scrambled forwards, knocking their knees together painfully, although Julie, to her credit, didn’t even flinch. He took a deep, stuttering breath and tried again.

“I didn’t...I wasn’t trying to move away from you. I just...sometimes I forget I get to do that now.”

Julie quirked a brow and tilted her head slightly. Luke wanted to scratch his eyeballs out so he never had to see her looking so hurt and confused again. He groaned, reaching behind his head to give his hair a soft tug, recentering himself in the moment. He forced himself to meet Julie’s gaze and explain in a way that would actually make sense. He also made sure to scoot forward a bit so that their kneecaps were firmly pressed together, skin to skin.

“I just...for so long I wanted to be able to touch you in any way and have it be totally normal and okay.”

The words weren’t flowing perfectly, and Luke cursed the fact that Julie was able to scramble his brains and mess with the one thing he had always felt confident in. He pushed on though, because this was Julie, and if anyone was going to understand him, it was her.

“But I didn’t...I couldn’t...we weren’t like that, you know? We were friends and yeah, I love my friends, and I hug my friends, and I’m affectionate with them or whatever, but with you it was...different. I didn’t want to just be friends. But I also didn’t know what you wanted, and more than not wanting to just be friends, I didn’t want to not be a friend, so I made these rules. Rules about how I couldn’t say too much or do too much or touch you too much because it would mean more to me than it would to you and that wasn’t fair. And then everything changed, and you liked me too, and now we’re like a freaking dream, like I don’t always believe it kinda dream, and so I fall back on the rules. Because what if I say too much or do too much or touch you too much and I ruin everything?”

That...was a lot more than he had meant to say. But Julie wasn’t looking at him with judgement in her gaze. Her eyes were gentle and warm, her lips parting almost as if she was in awe, her features softening completely. She reached forward, slowly and deliberately, to place her hands along his thighs, just above where their knees were still touching. She leaned in, the pressure of her hands strong and steady, her scent invading his senses until everything in his world shrunk down to nothing more than JulieJulieJulie.

“You could never say or do too much. And you 100% could never touch me too much. Do you know how long I waited for you? Do you know how many rules I tried to come up with, how many nights I told myself over and over again that I needed to just get over you because it was never gonna happen? How many times I was so sure I was going to ruin the band and our friendship because I was so stupidly in love with you and nothing I did could stop it?”

Luke was having a hard time remembering how to breathe. He hadn’t ever thought about any of that. Because Julie had always seemed so confident and self-assured. She had been the one to make the first move that turned them from friends to more. She had been the one to confess how she felt first. She had always been his safety net, taking the plunge before he could, reassuring him so that when he stepped off the ledge, he knew she would be there to catch him.

“God, I love you so much,” his words were fierce and intense as he touched his forehead to hers and whispered them into the small space between their lips. “What the hell would I do without you?”

“Well, you’d probably still be trying to figure out the bridge and ending to Edge of Great without me.”

Luke growled and lunged forward, tackling Julie to the couch, and smothering her shriek beneath his lips. He felt her mouth curve into a smile, the kiss turning sloppy as she giggled uncontrollably. Her hands wound around his shoulders, twisting into the hair along the nape of his neck and threatening to turn him boneless against her. He broke away, propping himself up on his forearms so that his body remained stretched out along hers as he stared down at her.

“I can’t believe I get to be with you. You promise it’s not a dream?”

“If you’re dreaming, I’m dreaming. And I don’t think we can actually share dreams no matter how much we love each other. So, you’d better believe it, babe. I’m yours, forever.”

That did turn Luke boneless, every inch of his being melting down on top of hers, so they were connected from head to toe. Julie didn’t protest. She just pulled him closer, whispered you’ll always be mine against the skin of his neck, her breath hot and spellbinding against his skin. Luke didn’t argue. Who could argue with a goddess like Julie and expect to win? The best prize of all was knowing she loved him just as deeply as he loved her; he wasn’t about to try and convince her otherwise.

If Luke was able to love Julie for the rest of her life, it wouldn’t be nearly long enough for him to show her how much he cared. But that’s what ever afters were made for, right? A lifetime and then some. Luke knew with every fiber of his being that he would love Julie far past the time their respective stars burned out. That’s what destinies were all about. Loving forever and ever and ever. Even after you thought you were gone, the legacy lived on, timeless and unbreakable. That was them. Forever and a day, no end in sight for the rest of eternity.

#I'm on a soft Juke train tonight and I cannot be stopped #choo choo motherfuckers #THEY JUST LOVE EACH OTHER OKAY #will I ever write Luke without making him insecure in the face of Julie's incredibility? probably not #mads writes #jatp #julie and the phantoms #juke #jukebox #jatp ficlet #juke ficlet #julie molina #luke patterson #send me prompts for my birthday!

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amintyworld · 3 years

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The Return - Dream SMP 12 Years AU

A/N: Hey guys! Welcome to another introduction to a AU idea I had with a lotta fluff and angst. May write more with this AU because I have a lot of ideas for it. Hope you enjoy and as always, if you have any questions about this AU at all, my ask box is always open, I'd love to talk about this.

By the way, for the enderman text I used this translator that my friend @griffintail uses in her work as well. It was really helpful and you guys should totally check out her work on her blog, she's awesome. - Minty

Summary: 12 years after the Bench Trio, Wilbur, Sam and Sapnap kill Dream for good and burn the revive book, the masked man returns on a plan for revenge.

TW: Blood/gore, kidnapping, torture, attempted murder, murder, implied character death, running away, denial, cursing, sympathetic dream? (He's a ghost). (Tell me if I need to tag anything else!) (Also, shippers get off my lawn please and thank you.)

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Michael’s eyes narrowed as someone, a stranger he couldn’t recognize slowly approached the house. That bright green hoodie and weird mask made his instincts flare, sensing danger. He jumped down, getting out his sword as he slowly walked to greet the intruder. His Dads and Uncle Technoblade trained him well enough that a plan was already forming in his head, going over the stock he had on him in his mind, prepared for whatever the stranger was planning to do.

A golden ax hung from the masked man’s back, a smile peeking out from under that smooth porcelain-like surface that the zombie piglin couldn’t tell if it was friendly or sinister. Finally, they were about five feet apart, facing each other. Michael pulled the cloak around him slightly more as a cold wind blew through the field. “Who are you? What are you doing on Snowchester Property?”

The man just stared at him, looking at him up and down.

“Answer me, dammit!”

“Michael, right?” The masked man walked toward him casually. “I don’t believe we’ve formally met.”

“Not another step!” Michael shouted, pointing his enchanted netherite sword threateningly at the stranger, who looked almost amused at this action, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “How do you know my name?!”

“Oh, your parents didn’t tell you? We’re family.”

“...family?”

“Not by blood, of course. I’m more like... a friend. A family friend. Your parents and I were very close back in the day, I just came by for a visit.”

“A visit…? If you’re so close with my parents how come you haven’t visited before?”

“You know how adventuring can be - it takes up a lot of time, you know.” The masked man smiled and made Michael’s gut churn uncomfortably. “I’ve heard so much about you, Michael.” The stranger kept walking towards the teenager, his hands up casually. “It’s been so long, we should really spend some time and catch up-”

“NO! No. Stay… stay right there. Don’t… don’t you dare fucking move, you got that?!” The man stopped around three feet away from him now. “Now you either tell me your name or I’m putting this blade through your teeth.”

The man sighed. “Pity. I was really hoping to get to talk with you peacefully, Michael. You seem like a nice kid.”

“What?”

Quickly and flawlessly, the masked intruder pulled out his ax and Michael quickly readied his sword, ready for a fight. What he didn’t expect was for the intruder to get some air and run up the wall of the mansion, landing down the blow with a lot more force than the zombie piglin expected, and he dug his hooves into the snow, somehow keeping himself from getting knocked over completely. Using all of his strength he pushed the intruder off, scrambling for a strength potion as the man tackled him to the ground. “Nuh-uh, that’s cheating.” Michael was quick to grab his sword and defend, moving to strike against his neck. The masked man moved to dodge, the black string of his mask getting nicked by Michael’s blade, making it begin to fall to start to reveal blonde hair and cold green eyes that were somewhat familiar to Michael, though he couldn’t figure out from where. As he hesitated, the man’s eyes flared with anger. Within seconds he’d pulled Michael’s arm against his back toward his shoulder blade, making the piglin feel like his arm was going to snap. He grunted in pain, reaching to grab his sword that got knocked into the snow when he felt the press of an ax against his neck, enough pressure to feel the sharpness of the blade. The zombie piglin could hear his heartbeat in his ears, swallowing his fear.

“I’m Dream, though I think you already know who I am.” Dream huffed against the piglin’s desperate struggle, the familiar adrenaline rushing through his veins from a victory. Of course, Michael knew the stories - his Dads and Uncle Tommy defeated that psychopath 12 years ago. They killed him, how the fuck was he alive?! The blade pressed harder against Michael’s neck as it began to draw a bit of blood. “Stop struggling.” Dream relished how much he’d missed all this, how much he’d missed being in control. “You and I are gonna have a little chat.”

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Ranboo hauled his basket of carrots and potatoes beside him as he reached down to grab some of the new harvests. A snowstorm was coming in soon, and they needed to stock up for the coming colder months. Their farms grew so big that a few of them set up shop in front of the old decommissioned prison, Pandora’s Box. Twelve years ago Ranboo, Tubbo, and Tommy had faced that prison head-on, fighting their old allies turned foes, death at nearly every turn they took. They succeeded with a little help, burying the body a little outside of the prison walls and never looking back. The three of them faced many more trials after that, growing close as years passed and the server became peaceful as it used to be back in the beginning. The children grew up, their parents giving them the world and more, protecting them from harm, and making sure they had better than their parents ever did. Now, throwing another bright orange carrot in his basket, Ranboo couldn’t help but smile across the way at his husband, teetering up the ladder in a straw sun hat, gathering honey from their bee farm. He’d gifted the ladder a few years prior - “A little short help for my shortie”. Tubbo threatened a villain arc at the note, making everyone around the table laugh as Ranboo walked over to embrace him, his chin resting on Tubbo’s head gently as the shorter had crossed his arms with a huff. Ranboo’s heart warmed at the fond memory.

He felt happy.

FoolishG whispered to you: Ranboo he’s back.

You whisper to FoolishG: What do you mean?

You whisper to FoolishG: Who?

FoolishG whispered to you: He’s going after you first.

FoolishG whispered to you: Is Michael with you?

You whisper to FoolishG: No.

You whisper to FoolishG: You didn’t answer my question, Foolish.

FoolishG whispered to you: Michael’s in danger, you need to get to him now.

FoolishG whispered to you: Dream’s alive, Ranboo.

You whisper to FoolishG: If this is some kind of joke this isn’t funny.

You whisper to FoolishG: This isn’t funny

You whisper to FoolishG: You know how he messed with me, stop it

You whisper to FoolishG: Don’t joke about that, Foolish.

You whisper to FoolishG: Foolish answer me

You whisper to FoolishG: Foolish?

Ranboo dropped his messenger in fear as the reality of the situation began to set in, his breaths beginning to panic. No, no no no no… they killed him. They killed him, they got rid of him for good. He’s supposed to be dead, he’s supposed to be gone-!

“Ranboo?” Tubbo looked over at him with concern as he packed up the jars of honey from their bee farm. Ranboo’s silence did not help his unease. “Ranboo, what’s wrong?”

FoolishG whispered to you: Hurry, Ranboo. I don’t know how long he’ll last.

Tubbo was kneeling in front of him now, grounding him with his hands on his husband’s shoulders. “Breathe. Breathe, Ranboo. Deep breaths, you’ve got it…”

As Ranboo tried in vain to even his breaths, he held Tubbo’s hand in fear. “Dream’s back... He’s...he… he’s alive and he has Michael.”

“What?” Tubbo’s eyebrows furrowed. “But… but we burned the revive book. We killed him, I saw his body-!”

“Michael… fuck, he has Michael…” Ranboo cursed on his breath. “This is all my fault, I should’ve known-!”

“No. None of that. You can’t blame yourself for this.” Tubbo dismissed, getting up and holding his hand out toward the enderman. “We’ve killed him before, we’ll just kill him again, right? We’ll save Michael and put a stop to this for good.” As Tubbo helped Ranboo back to his feet, he moved under a tree to place the purple glowing black box that greeted the two like an old friend. An enderchest. They hadn’t needed to use it for so long. They hadn’t needed what was inside. Tubbo pulled out a familiar enchanted sword that used to plague Ranboo’s dreams. His sword. The goat hybrid took off his straw hat and with one last glance placed it inside the enderchest, his eyes focused and thinking. He felt the new weight of the sword in his hand, getting used to the weapon again. “It’ll work this time. It has to.”

“It will.” Ranboo echoed.

Will it?

Tubbo’s eyebrows furrowed in thought, looking somber, numb. When they finally killed Dream they thought it would be the last time, the last war to fight. All three of them strived and hoped for peace, for all of it to be over, to get their own happy endings. He moved to the side, pulling out his communicator from his pocket. “Grab your stuff. I’ve got to warn Tommy.”

As Ranboo grabbed his own enchanted sword and his old armor from the chest, he couldn’t help but wonder, a single thought that nagged him and wouldn’t seem to leave his mind, making his stomach sink to the floor in dread…

...What if they never killed him in the first place?

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Phil closed his eyes as he sat in his chair, feeling something wrong, off in the air, something he couldn’t quite place. The room around him is silent but Phil can feel the world yelling for him, screaming for him. It’s trying to tell him something. Phil’s been alive for a long time. He’s seen the earth burst with new life, and slaughtered bodies fall to the floor, smelling nothing but the cold press of death. He’s seen it, heard it, felt it so many times it was a familiar, somewhat comforting feeling for him. It was calming, it was constant, it was natural.

So why did it…?

Phil’s eyes opened slowly, looking out the window in thought as Technoblade walked in from the snowstorm outside, a chill running through the cabin. The piglin dropped his bag of loot on the floor and began to shoulder off his snow gear to hang by the fire to dry. As Techno walked past him, moving in front of the fire to undo his braids, damp from the snow.

“Techno, something’s happening.”

“Heh?” The piglin’s ears perked up from the break in the somewhat comfortable silence they usually shared. “What… what do you mean?”

“Something’s wrong. It feels… unnatural.” Phil said, closing his eyes briefly again to focus on the feeling. “Did you see anything off while you were out?”

“Not really, the snow’s coming down so hard you can barely see a thing out there.” The piglin shrugged, the concern on his friend’s face only making a pit form in his stomach he tried to ignore. “...what’s wrong?”

“Something’s moving… breathing… it shouldn’t be.”

“Zombies, maybe?” Techno suggested. “I did see a few while I was out.”

“Maybe.” Phil agreed. “Part of me feels like something’s off, something dangerous. Like when you… you were almost…” Phil sighed. “I guess I’m just worrying over nothing again.”

“I wouldn’t say nothing - you have good instincts, Phil.”

“Battle instincts. Instincts I don’t need anymore. And here I thought you’d have a harder time adjusting to all this.” Phil scoffed.

“A lot’s been changing. With everything that happened, I don’t blame you for being a little tense, Phil. I am too.” Technoblade admitted. “Just to be safe, we can double-check when the storm passes, that way we won’t get any interference with the communicators.”

“I’d like that.” Phil smiled, moving to sit next to his friend by the fireplace. “Thanks, Techno.”

Technoblade scoffed, his mouth breaking into a smile. “Hey, don’t mention it.” The piglin ran his hands through his hair, going through a few knots before grabbing a brush. Taking a deep breath to calm the knots in his stomach, Phil moved to set the kettle on the furnace, grabbing a match to light it.

Miles away from the icy tundra, Foolish walked through the Temple of the Undying, a small teenager in their arms. He was silent as he marched, tears going down his cheeks full of emotion the god held back. His arm gently cradled the child’s head close to his chest. His heart weighed heavy with guilt, words and memories echoing in his mind of failure, of how he failed his son.

Foolish could feel presences, he could feel others watching from the shadows and corners. Every single statue and totem memorial against the wall seemed to have their gazes fixed on him as if waiting for what the god would do next. For once, Foolish didn’t know what to do.

He hadn’t even told anyone the news yet. How could he? His son was dead and it was all his fault. All because he wasn’t careful. Dream was back, he was standing there next to his son and for once he couldn’t control his anger, his panic. He tried to strike him down, but…

He still remembered every detail, how Dream had just… smiled. He wasn’t afraid. He was staring down a god, and he wasn’t afraid. Somehow, he was always one step ahead.

Lightening still sparked and clung to Foolish Jr.’s body. Foolish couldn’t help but think about how much pain he must’ve been in, how much pain he must’ve put him through. He fell to his knees in the center of the temple, gently laying his son on the floor, the beacon lighting him in a bright glow. His hands shaking, Foolish brushed a bit of hair out of Junior’s eyes, bowing his head toward the ground.

“I’m sorry…” His soft whispers echoed through the temple. “I’m so so sorry, Ra forgive me for what I’ve done…” Tears dripped down to the floor. “My little totemling…” Foolish’s eyes snapped toward the walls as the totem statue’s eyes began to softly glow, bathing the two in green light. The totem god’s eyes still wet with tears as he looked into the green eyes, a silent question on his mind. Whispers filled his ears that he couldn’t quite decipher. Suddenly, he felt it.

A pinprick in the middle of his chest, expanding throughout his body, the pain pulsing like a heartbeat. His breath hitched as drowsiness overtook him, making him feel dizzy. An essence was being slowly pulled from his body, glowing like some kind of enchantment on a weapon. Sweat built on Foolish’s brow as he struggled to keep his breaths even. Then… a stinging slice across his middle left him in a silent scream. His hand slowly reached up toward his chest, his eyes widening when he found it covered in crimson. The pain was overwhelming - it felt as if his body was torn apart and stitched back together in a matter of seconds. He scrambled to grab a health potion, downing it all and wincing at the terrible aftertaste but thankfully finally getting some relief. His eyes focused on the essence as it hung up into the air above the two, and slowly was lowered, expanding around Foolish Junior’s body.

As the green light faded, Foolish heard faint chanting, looking around for where it was coming from, trying desperately to piece together what was happening. Before Foolish had time to figure out exactly what the chanting was saying, the body shooting upwards from the ground, gasping for breath quickly grabbed his attention.

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Michael didn’t know how long it was. How many hours had passed since he’d been tied to the chair? He didn’t even know if it was night or day. He sat in the middle of his parent’s bedroom, feet and hands tied expertly - he was completely and utterly trapped. With every time he struggled and strained against the bonds they cut against his skin and irritated it enough to make them bleed, almost training the piglin to try to stay as still as possible, to avoid any pain.

Dream stalked around the bedroom like a thief, searching through the closet and drawers for something or other. He’d pick up a potion, a diamond, even an ingot or two, holding them up toward the light as if to inspect them before dropping them in his bag. His gaze fell upon a picture of the family from their beach vacation a few years ago - Ranboo fell asleep with a seagull perched on his stomach. Michael remembered how much he and his father had tried to hold back their laughter enough for a selfie, only for Ranboo to wake up and scare the seagull away halfway through taking the picture. They looked so happy together.

Dream seemed unfazed by the photo, almost studying it in a sense. The gaze seemed oddly calculated, making the teen feel uneasy.

“Michael you’re a good kid, you know.” Michael’s glare bore into Dream’s mask as sticky drips of crimson spilled over his hands. “You always want to do the right thing, want to protect everyone. You shouldn’t have to be the one to fight your parent’s battles, should you?”

Michael remained silent.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Michael. I really don’t. Despite what your parents might have told you, I’m not a monster. It brings me no satisfaction to bring you pain. After all, you’ve done nothing to me.”

“So?”

“So I’m giving you some free advice - take the easy way out, for both of us. All you need to do is tell me where that armor is hidden, and I’ll let you go.”

“Bullshit.” Michael spat. “I know that’s not what you want, my parents told me more than that you’re just some scary monster. You’re a power hungry lunatic.”

A smile spread across Dream’s face at Michael’s words. “A lunatic, huh?”

“You manipulated Uncle Wilbur, you tortured Uncle Tommy… you betrayed my father all because you want power! You want control over people, freeing me would have you lose the only shred of control you have left on this server, so why would you?”

“You’re a smart kid, you know that?” Dream said casually, rolling up his sleeves. “So smart…” He reached into his bag, grabbing a pair of shears that looked worn. There were initials on the leather cover that Michael couldn’t strain his eyes to see. Dream uncovered the shears, walking over toward the piglin and resting an arm on the teenager’s right side, trapping him.

Something churned in the piglin’s stomach. “What… what are you…?”

“Tell me, smart kid, do you know what it feels like to die? To feel nothing but neverending agony? To choke on your own blood as you beg for relief and warmth only to find yourself becoming colder and colder, not being able to move or even scream?”

Michael couldn’t help the fear that traveled up his spine. “I…I-”

“I wonder… would you like to find out?” The sharp end of the scissors was quickly set near the bottom of the piglin’s neck. It freaked Michael out - how calm Dream was about it all, how serious he sounded. Was he really going to kill him? The question sent his mind racing, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he felt like a trapped sheep in a wolf’s grasp. He wanted to run but he couldn’t.

“I...I just-”

“Do you know what canon lives are, Michael?” Dream asked smoothly, as if he was telling the teenager about the terrible weather. The words seemed familiar to the piglin but for some reason he was so stressed it was hard to remember anything specific. His parents never really talked about it much and usually tried to avoid the topic.

Michael thickly swallowed, acutely aware of the sharp blade against his skin. “No… no I don’t think-”

Of all the things he expected to happen in his situation, he certainly didn’t expect for the masked man to go into a small laughing fit over his answer. Michael struggled to find what exactly was funny, and a small pit of rage began to boil in his stomach, temporarily distracting the zombie piglin from the fear that the green blob seemed to pull out of him. So what if he didn’t know what those are?! Why does he care?! “Oh, I knew they couldn’t have told you everything…”

“What… what do you mean?”

“You see Michael, when someone dies they use up a canon life and respawn, until… well… they can’t anymore. Everyone has three, but a few have been used up over the years, at least when I was around.” Michael could see the beginnings of a smirk poke out from underneath Dream’s mask. “You’ve never respawned, have you?! All three lives, no deaths… oh, this could be fun…”

What… what the fuck was he suggesting?!

“Your choice - Tell me where the armor is now, or I’m going to kill you.”

The zombie piglin nervously looked around for any kind of out, something to stall. He couldn’t give up the location - Dad told him explicitly that he couldn’t reveal the location to anyone, no matter the circumstances.

Tubbo held Michael’s hands firmly in his own. “It’s evil, Michael. It used to belong to a very bad person, and he hurt a lot of people. We have to contain that evil here, for everyone’s sake. If this got into the wrong hands…” His father trailed off, not bothering to finish.

“I promise, Dad. I won’t let you down.”

Tubbo looked up at his son proudly, moving to cup his cheek with his hand fondly. “I know you won’t. You’re old enough and you’ve trained enough, you’ve earned my trust.”

He couldn’t let his father down, but…

“Five… four… three…” Dream huffed, getting impatient.

“You… you can’t just-!”

“Wrong answer.”

Michael’s memory was fuzzy after that - maybe it was because of the pain, or maybe it because he didn’t want to remember. He remembered… he remembered how his body trembled as Dream swiftly stabbed him in the chest with the shears, he remembered the tears going down his face as Dream tried to wedge the weapon deeper in the wound. And the pain… the pain was indescribable. Of course Michael had gotten hurt before - but arrows and zombie bites and broken bones could never compare to this, not by a long shot. Words left his lips so freely that he forgot exactly what he said, but when Dream twisted the scissors he whimpered.

He was mad at himself for crying and losing himself in front of his tormentor - he was giving him exactly what he wanted! Why did he just cry so easily?! Why was he being so… so weak?! He didn’t know exactly how or when the chair he was tied to flipped over, but he did remember shouting that seemed distant. He hit his head when he fell, adding to the throbbing dizziness in his skull. The pain hurt so much he wanted it to stop, please just let it stop...

He hadn’t even noticed the masked green blob left the room until a pair of dark purple eyes stared at him from the doorway. He felt himself tremble as the figure moved closer, and Michael squeezed his eyes shut, not willing to watch whatever that thing wanted to do to him next. After a tense moment of silence the piglin felt arms wrapped around him, pulling him close and his body relaxed into the touch, the familiar hum radiating throughout the stranger’s chest that always helped calm him. A hand reached up to scratch at his ears fondly, and Michael worked up the courage to open his eyes.

Two purple glowing eyes looked down at him, smiling and purring. The hair, the clothes… “Dad…?” Michael weakly croaked. The purple-eyed Ranboo smiled at him as he fondly patted his head. A loud noise erupted from his mouth, making Michael tense up in fear.

“⏚⏃⏚⊬.”

Upon seeing Michael’s distress, purple-eyed Ranboo quickly went back to sending calming purrs, holding his son’s head in his hands. Michael was so confused - what was that noise? More importantly, was his Dad okay? Ranboo’s hands drifted above the zombie piglin’s chest wound, a slight noise of discomfort coming from the back of his throat. He grit his teeth through the pain as he struggled to speak. “Dad, look, you… you gotta listen - Dream’s here, he’s gonna be back any second…”

The Ranboo-not-Ranboo’s head whipped toward the doorway at a loud crash, his grip increasing on the teenager slightly. Had his Dad even heard him? More strange noise erupted from his mouth, only increasing Michael’s concern. What was going on?

“⎅⏃⋏☌⟒⍀.”

Before Michael could ask what exactly that meant, with a ‘vwoop’ the purple-eyed Ranboo disappeared. Though Michael missed the warm comfort for his pulsing pain, part of him was glad. That means his Dad must’ve heard him, he was gonna warn the others and Dream wouldn’t hurt him, that was all that mattered. The other part felt like he was six years old again trapped in his own personal nightmare, begging for his father to come back and save him and hold him and tell him everything was going to be alright. Static began to fill his ears as a slow deep sleepiness began to take over. Tears pricked at the edges of Michael’s eyes, the pulsing, burning pain becoming too much.

Just let me rest...

The door slammed open. A scream echoed.

“MICHAEL!”

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

Foolish had never seen his son so scared in his entire life. He shot up, grasping for some kind of lifeline, and Foolish didn’t hesitate to pull him close. “Dad…”

“Shh, it’s okay little totemling. Dad’s right here.” His heart felt full as he hugged his son tightly, afraid that if he let go it would all just be a dream. His son, his son was alive and breathing, his son was right here in his arms, he was okay, it was all okay-! Wet tears slipped down his face before he had the time to notice them. The totem god’s gaze shifted up towards the totem statue. The statue glared down at him, expressionless, as if nothing else needed to be said.

Thank you. Thank you so much.

“There was… there were shadows everywhere,” Junior sobbed. “It was cold and so, so scary and I didn’t know where you were, and-!”

“I’m right here, Foolish. I’m right here. It…” Foolish hesitated. How could he explain this to him? How could he tell his son that he failed him? How could he face his son and tell him the truth, that his own father had killed him? Maybe some things were better left unsaid, some truths untold. Foolish couldn’t tell you whether he avoided it to spare his son’s emotions or his own, simply that he found that he just couldn’t. “It was all just a bad dream, don’t worry. I was just waiting for you to respawn.”

Maybe he was a coward. Maybe he’d tell him the truth later, but he couldn’t face it right now. He just couldn’t. Either way, what did it matter? He got a second chance, and this time he wasn’t going to mess up. Not again.

“Wait, where’s Dream?”

Foolish couldn’t help but tense hearing those words. “...What?”

“Where’s Dream? He just came back, I can’t leave him. He’s probably somewhere scared and alone, he probably thinks I died! I’m his only friend, I gotta-!” Junior shifted, moving to get out of his father’s grip.

“Foolish. Foolish, no.” The totem god said firmly. “Dream’s dangerous. He’s done horrible things, he’s hurt so many people back when he was alive, and I won’t have you be next.” Not again.

“But… but it’s been so long, maybe he’s changed! Maybe…”

“Foolish.”

“When Wilbur came back he changed, he became a good guy again! Dream’s been dead longer than him, he’s my friend he can’t… he’s not…”

“Dream used you against me when you stepped in front to protect him. Maybe his ghost was different, but… but he’s not a ghost anymore.”

Junior pulled away from his father’s embrace. “No, no that’s not true! You were the first one to attack him, he was just standing there, Dad! He just came back, he hadn’t done anything wrong, you assumed he did. You attacked for no reason.”

“Foolish you don’t understand, the things Dream’s done-”

“He’s been dead for 12 years, Dad! 12 years, and you don’t think he’s changed?! I thought you always believed in second chances, that everyone deserves a chance to do the right thing.” Junior stated. “You didn’t even give him a chance.”

“He’s killed countless people in cold blood-”

“Haven’t you?!”

Foolish’s face fell as he looked over his hands. Static filled his ears as his mind remembered every single detail, and for a moment he swore he could feel the warm, thick blood coating his hands. No, no no no… not now… He quickly clenched his hands tightly into fists, closing his eyes, trying to block it out before it flooded back, before…

He felt arms around his neck, a warm embrace. “It’s okay, it’s okay… I’m so sorry, I’m sorry-!”

As the feeling slowly faded, he opened his eyes, finding his son’s face red and puffy from crying. He mustered a small smile, both their anger long forgotten. “Hey, hey it’s okay… I told you I’m not going anywhere, right?”

“You were… you were turning into the… I’m so sorry…” Junior’s voice was soft and quiet.

“You don’t need to be, it’s not your fault…” Foolish reassured. “You’re right. You’re right, I’ve… I’ve done horrible things too. I just don’t want him to hurt you. I want to protect you, you know that right?”

“I know.”

Junior yawned, and Foolish smiled warmly.

“Come, my little totemling. You look tired.” Foolish said, scooping up the young teenager in his arms and walking toward his son’s room. Junior tiredly smiled.

“I love you, Dad.”

Foolish leaned down and gave his son a small forehead kiss. “I love you too, Foolish. No matter what.”

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

“Shit, shit shit shit shit…” Tubbo mumbled, his hands shaking as he rushed over to his son, noticing the large gash in his chest. He fumbled for his bag, desperately trying to find a potion of harming.

Regen, healing, strength, swiftness…

“Fuck.” Tubbo cursed under his breath, throwing aside his satchel and rushing over toward the drawers, pulling them open, throwing things to the ground in reckless abandon. What happened to the potions?! They always had extra, then extra for the extra! He and Ranboo were always prepared, they knew how hard harming potions were to make, so where was it?!

A loud crash ripped through the halls as Enderwalk Ranboo crashed through the wooden wall of the room, wooden splinters flying everywhere. Enderwalk huffed as he staggered trying to get to his feet, letting out a loud hiss as Dream walked through the new hole in the wall, his sword out, red staining his green hoodie. He looked over the scene, catching his breath.

“Oh, you guys wanted to pull one over on me, huh?! Throw the enderman freak on me, grab Michael and leave?”

Tubbo moved to be closer to Michael, pulling out his own sword protectively as Enderwalk moved in front of both, ignoring his own slashes and blood dripping to the floor. Enderwalk Ranboo screeched, almost daring the masked man to come toward his family. Tubbo’s gaze was focused on Dream, looking him over. “Yeah, something like that. Great plan, isn’t it?”

“Actually,” Dream let out a small cough, smirking. “Actually it’s pretty stupid.”

“I’d disagree, since we have Michael, and from the looks of it, you don’t have your precious armor.”

“Oh Tubbo, all these years and you’ve learned nothing… I always have other plans.”

Tubbo’s eyes narrowed. “What do you-?”

“Looking for this?” Dream smiled, holding up a glimmering potion of harming. Enderwalk was ready to pounce, looking over at Tubbo who stood up, sword raised. “Nuh-uh-uh. Try to take it from me and I’ll smash it on the floor. All of them.” Dream moved to open the flap of his bag slightly to reveal more potions of harming. Tubbo’s face fell - all the extras, everything…

Enderwalk looked back at Tubbo, head tilted in confusion as Tubbo signaled for him to stand down. Tubbo took a deep breath - he hated this. He hated that once again, he hadn’t thought everything through, he hated that once again he failed, and most of all he hated that fact that as of this moment, his son’s life was in that green psycho's hands. Enderwalk turned to hold Michael close once again, nuzzling him and getting worried and sad when he didn’t respond. “What do you want for it?”

“You know what I want.” Dream said coldly. “I’d hurry if I were you, or it’ll be Michael’s first cannon life.”

Tubbo promised himself he wouldn’t ever subject his son to that kind of pain, that he’d protect him no matter what. He let out a defeated sigh. “Second portrait on the left in the entryway. It’s behind the painting.” Tubbo held out his hand. “Now give me the potion.”

“Tubbo, Tubbo, Tubbo… never change. Once an idiot, always an idiot, isn’t it?” Dream tossed the potion bottle over, which Tubbo quickly caught as the masked man turned and walked out of the room. Tubbo quickly rushed over toward his son, putting the potion bottle to his lips. They didn’t have much time.

Of course, it wouldn’t heal much, but it certainly was better than nothing. He looked over toward Enderwalk, gears turning in his head trying to make sure he spoke clearly enough to be understood. “⟒⋏⎅⟒⍀, ☌⟒⏁ ⏚⏃⋏⎅⏃☌⟒⌇.”

Enderwalk nodded, rushing over toward the drawers, grabbing some bandages and handing them over to Tubbo, who set down the empty potion bottle. Enderwalk looked down at Michael as Tubbo worked, focused. “⏚⏃⏚⊬ ⏃⌇⌰⟒⟒⌿. ⏚⏃⏚⊬ ⍜☍⏃⊬?”

“⌿⏃⟟⋏ ⊑⎍⍀⏁ ⏁⍜⍜ ⋔⎍☊⊑. ⌿⍜⏁⟟⍜⋏ ⊑⟒⌰⌿⟒⎅.”

Enderwalk reached to scratch and pat behind Michael’s ears. Tubbo tightened the bandages as Michael stirred. “...Dad…?”

“Michael, thank gods you’re alright!” Tubbo moved to hug his son, Enderwalk joining in, purring happily at the reunion.

“What… what happened? Where’s Dream?”

No time. “Busy. Michael, can you move..?”

Michael shifted to sit, feeling sore, tired. Small pulses of pain still wracked his body that he ignored. He moved his leg slightly, testing the waters. “I… I think so…?”

“Good. Okay.” Tubbo got up, holding out his hand and helping his son stand on shaky hooves. “I need you to run. Run toward Uncle Tommy’s.”

“Wait, what? N-no, I’m not leaving you!”

“This isn’t a choice, Michael. You have to go. Now. Before he comes back.”

“But-”

Tubbo’s hands gently squeezed his son’s. “No matter what you hear or what happens, don’t stop. Don’t stop until you’re at Uncle Tommy’s and you’re safe, okay?”

“But what about you and Dad? What about Dream?”

“Don’t worry, we’ve held our own this long. We’ll meet you at Uncle Tommy’s soon, but you have to get there and get safe, okay? Don’t look back, just get there. You can do that for me, right?” Tubbo’s forehead gently bonked Michael’s. “Remember the time we got caught in the forest just as the sun was coming down?”

“Yeah. I was so scared I couldn’t move. It was my first time out at night.”

“Remember, I took your hand like this…” Tubbo slowly rubbed circles into the back of Michael’s palm. “And told you that you didn’t have to be scared, that I was gonna be right there with you. All the scary monsters, you didn’t need to be afraid because as long as you kept running, nothing could get you.”

“Dad, I don’t know if I-”

“Yes you can. I know you can, Michael. Run as fast as your hooves can carry you, I know you can do it. I know you can be brave.” Tubbo encouraged. “Get there, your father and I will be right behind you. I promise.”

“I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, Michael.”

“⏚⏃⏚⊬ ⍜☍⏃⊬! ⍙⊑⊬ ⏚⏃⏚⊬ ⌇⏃⎅?”

Enderwalk nuzzled with Michael as a few tears spilled down the piglin’s cheeks, and he laughed, smiling. “I love you too, Dad!”

Quickly, giving his parents one last look, Michael dashed into the hallway, heading toward the balcony and jumping down into the courtyard, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he ran through the trees toward the icy tundra. Tubbo wiped away his tears as he looked over toward his purple-eyed husband.

“⏚⏃⏚⊬...?”

Tubbo cupped Enderwalk’s cheek as the enderman snuggled into the embrace. “⋔⟟☊⊑⏃⟒⌰ ⋏⍜⏁ ⌇⏃⎎⟒ ⊑⟒⍀⟒. ☌⍜⟟⋏☌ ⏁⍜ ⌇⏃⎎⟒ ⌿⌰⏃☊⟒.”

Enderwalk looked into Tubbo’s eyes and nodded in understanding. He moved to hold Tubbo’s face in his hands as Tubbo stilled, confused for a moment before Enderwalk pulled him down to the floor in a tight hug. Surprised at first, Tubbo returned the gesture. A loud crash erupted from below the two, followed by loud angry yells that sent shivers up Enderwalk’s spine and made him tense up.

“WHERE IS IT?!”

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

“The flowers are really pretty today.” Ghostie smiled as he kneeled down in the daisy flower field, callused and rough hands moving to gently caress a flower.

“Yeah, spring’s coming.” Junior smiled, sitting down next to his friend.

“Spring…?”

“You… wait a minute, you’ve never seen spring before?!”

The ghost considered his friend's words for a moment, searching his own memory. “No, I… I don’t think I remember spring.” He smiled excitedly, a childlike curiosity in his eyes. “What’s it like?”

Junior settled down next to his friend, moving to pluck a flower. “Well, it’s warm, like… like hot chocolate, and flowers come back… it’s like the entire world comes alive again.” As Junior spoke, Ghostie pushed his green hood back and looked up towards the bright blue sky, noticing a small butterfly float past. His heart felt light, it was perfectly warm and bright, and something about everything around him made a smile appear on his face. “It’s perfect.”

“Oh, by the way, I’ve got something for you.” Foolish Junior smiled, reaching into his bag and pulling out a small piece of different colors of braided thread - a lime green and two different shades of blue with a small white shell at the bottom. He held it out to Ghostie. “Now we’re officially best friends!”

“What is it…?” Ghostie asked, staring down at the foreign object laid in his palm.

“It’s a friendship bracelet!” Junior beamed, pulling out a similar yellow with the same two shades of blue. When his ghost friend didn’t respond or understand when he pointed it out, just staring up at him confused, he moved to explain. “You wear it on your wrist to show that we’re friends. See? It matches mine.” The twelve year old held up his own bracelet to show his ghost friend.

“Were… were we not friends before…?”

“Of course we were, Ghostie!” Foolish Junior exclaimed. “You’re my best ghost friend in the world, after all.” He reassured his friend. “I just wanted to make it for you because I thought you’d like it. Tubbo was telling me this story the other day about these special compasses, and… and I wanted to make sure that even if we’re not always together, we’ll still have a part of each other, you know?”

“It’s pretty. Like the flowers.” Ghostie smiled. “I love it.”

“Here, let me show you how to put it on…”

Foolish Junior heard talking just beyond his room as he packed, hearing his Uncle Eret downstairs. For a second, his mind wandered to what they could possibly be talking about. After all, it was just a simple respawn. He wasn’t that hurt, Ghostie got brought back… everything was perfect! Everything was supposed to be absolutely perfect.

So why wasn’t it? The whispers and hushed tones, the way his father looked at him, clung to him in a vice grip… it wasn’t right. He wasn’t right. He knew his father wasn’t right about Ghostie, or… or was he Dream now…? Dream. It didn’t sound right, it didn’t fit him as well as ‘Ghostie’ did. The name felt so foreign on his tongue. But, if that’s what his friend wanted…

The teenager stilled as his gaze settled on the abandoned green and blue friendship bracelet left on his nightstand. He remembered how Ghostie held it with the utmost care when he handed it to him to take - “Make sure to give it back once the ritual’s all done. I don’t wanna get it dirty.” Junior remembered so clearly how Ghostie looked at him when he wasn’t transparent anymore.he called out for him with a smile, and his best friend simply turned around without saying a single word, looking around the forest.

After a moment of hesitation, he slid on Ghostie’s bracelet next to his own. He’ll give it back, he’ll reunite with Ghostie and introduce him to everyone and they’d understand. Then, they’d finally get to go swimming together like they always wanted to. They’d be together again.

All he had to do was find him.

You whisper to Dream: Meet me by the flower field tonight once the sun goes down. Be safe. We’ve gotta talk.

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

As his husband held his head in agony, Tubbo was quick to steady him, resting his head against his shoulder. He gently held him, adapting as he shifted every now and then. Worried thoughts filled Tubbo's head as he couldn’t help but think of the worst - it had after all been years since Ranboo had forced himself to go into that state. He was the one who pushed him, all for his plan, his 'big' plan. Eventually, Tubbo found the voice to speak. “You there, Boo?”

“I... forgot how dizzying it is…” Ranboo let out a pained chuckle against his husband’s shoulder. “How’d I do?”

“Amazing,” Tubbo smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. A few tears slid down his cheeks as he softly laughed. “Absolutely amazing.”

“Michael okay?”

“Dream roughed him up a little badly,” Tubbo sniffed, moving his hand up to wipe away his tears. “I patched him up, gave him a potion and sent him on his way toward Tommy’s.”

“That’s good.” Ranboo moved to sit up fully, holding Tubbo’s hand in his to comfort him. His smile never left his face. “So, what’s the plan now?”

“Well, Dream always told us what would happen if we crossed him.” Tubbo looked up at Ranboo. “Do you wanna come with me and find out?”

The enderman smirked playfully. “Aw, don’t tell me you tricked the poor thing…?”

“I do learn from the best.” Tubbo smiled. The door slammed open once more to reveal a very angry and pissed off Dream. Slowly, he walked over toward the couple, a golden axe drawn.

“Tubbo.” He growled.

"Dream." Tubbo smiled. "Did you find the armor?" A pair of netherite boots fell to the floor with a 'clang', the noise like thunder in the silent tense room.

“Where’s the rest of it?!”

“What, don't you like the boots?”

Dream pounced, tackling Tubbo to the ground and slowly pushing the axe blade up toward Tubbo’s neck. “Start talking you little shit.”

“Did you honestly think we’d hide all your precious armor and weapons in one spot?! Do you think after twelve years we’d still be that stupid?!” With Tubbo’s words, Dream looked like he was slapped, anger only building and rising the more he thought it over, the more he realized his mistake.

A mistake. He didn't make mistakes.

“We’ve buried them and hid the locations all around the SMP, just in case someone like you ever showed up again and tried to take us down.” Tubbo explained. “Good luck on finding the others, going through everyone on the SMP, digging through all that dirt… not to mention that as we speak Michael’s running to warn the others about you.” Tubbo’s eyes narrowed. “You’re trapped.”

He didn't make mistakes. He didn't get trapped. He was always smarter, always faster, always in control. Why wasn't he in control?!

“Checkmate, Dream.” Tubbo spat.

The words sparked a flame within Dream’s stomach, igniting his anger and destructive spirit. Choked breathing filled the room as Dream wrapped his hands around Tubbo’s throat and squeezed. How dare he… HOW DARE HE TRICK HIM?! He saw red as he slammed Tubbo’s head back down against the wooden floor, staining it crimson. Ranboo yelled and screamed in the background until Tubbo was still as a stone, unconscious.

“Get away from him!” Ranboo yelled, grabbing his sword and moving to strike. A quick slash of Dream’s yellow axe sent him to the floor as well. Struggling to keep awake, Ranboo crawled, each movement feeling like fire as it combined with his older injuries, his blood dripping to the floor. Dream watched Ranboo a moment, relishing in his struggle, the blood bringing him a deep satisfaction. Slowly, ever so slowly, he begins to walk over toward the enderman, his golden axe dripping with blood.

“I’ll admit, I didn’t expect you guys to be so sharp after all these years… but you’re still making the same mistakes.” Dream said with an oddly calm and cold tone. “You three always underestimate me. You underestimated me then, and you’re still doing it now to make yourselves feel better, to feel like you’ve won. But you haven’t.” Dream kneeled down in front of the enderman, grabbing a fistful of his hair and pulling his face to look at his. “I’m going to win eventually. After all, I waited a hundred and forty-four years to get out of that hell hole you three put me in. If you think a small slip up is all it takes to stop me and the plans I have…" The last thing that rang in Ranboo's head before he passed out was Dream's crazed laughter.

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

General Writing Taglist (Tell me if you'd like to be added or removed):

@bonesposts

(Also, I believe @yellowhearthero wanted some protective enderboo, so here you go! :D)

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m3kuroshirt · 3 years

Text

GrimmIchi Weekend Challenge #4: When time comes

Words: Impact, Silence

Genre/Trope: Enemies to Lovers

Word count: 2793

Warning: canon typical violence, some language

Challenged by @m34gs

Summary: (5+1 - Enemies to lovers) - 4 times they were enemies and 1 they weren’t, then everything changed.

(1)

Seeing Rukia dying right in front of his eyes was the most terrifying thing he had experienced up until that day. The enemy had pierced her body like it was nothing. Ichigo was petrified for a couple of seconds and when the world started to make sense again he launched forth, clashing with that blue haired devil, who was laughing and enjoying all too much the blood shed. He launched with all his might at the maniac in front of him, swinging his sword at every opportunity. Yet, that bastard kept dodging and toying with him. Ichigo felt the lacerations in his skin gushing blood, and he could feel his inner hollow slowly and steadily trying to take control of his body. But before that happened he was on the ground, the enemy towering him and ready to swing a final blow. Ichigo was ready for the impact, but it never came. When he could focus again he saw Tosen right behind the blue haired man. Despite the adrenaline still running through his body, Ichigo didn’t know what to do; he didn’t have the strength to fight at the moment. Then, he heard a displeased sound coming from the blue haired man, and the next thing his mind focused on was the garganta opening and both of them stepping inside. But before it closed completely, the devil spoke:

“I’m the Sexta Espada, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez! Don’t forget, shinigami!”

-x-

(2)

Training with the Visored wasn’t as easy as Ichigo had first thought, specially not with that sly annoying smirking guy. Still, after everything, Ichigo was confident that he could tap into his hollow powers for at least a few minutes now. Fear wouldn’t be the one thing that could make him hesitate in his next battle. The memories of losing control to his hollow were still fresh but he was certain that he was on the path to master its power. He just needed to keep fighting. Fighting with—

“He’s here.”

Ichigo was never good with sensing others reiatsu but for some reason the powerful presence of Grimmjow drew him in like a moth to fire. So, as soon as that spiritual energy hit his senses, he took off.

Facing Grimmjow again was a matter of… something. Ichigo wasn’t quite sure the reason behind his need to square up with him, yet, he knew he wanted to clash blades with the Arrancar again and beat him.

“What happened to your arm?”

“I discarded it. I don’t need it to defeat you, shinigami!”

They clashed and Ichigo decided it was time to test his new found power. The surprised expression on that ever scowling face stirred a dangerous feeling of pride and satisfaction in Ichigo. He was going to show the other that he was strong.

He swung a getsuga tensho.

Grimmjow clashed with him again.

Everything was exhilarating, he felt alive and in control, everything was going well and Ichigo knew that with just one more blow Grimmjow would be the one on the ground. It truly would have been his win if his hollow mask hadn’t cracked. If his time limit hadn’t been reached.

The opportunity to prove that he could take the other was gone. And Grimmjow laughed victoriously as he took his chance to get Ichigo on the ground.

Another victory to Grimmjow.

Ichigo would be finished for good now, if the maniac smile on the other was any indication. However, another Arrancar got in the way. He saw disappointment in Grimmjow’s features, but before he was engulfed by the endless darkness of the garganta, a promise to battle again in Hueco Mundo was made.

Ichigo’s whole body shivered in anticipation.

-x-

(3)

When Ichigo set foot in Hueco Mundo to rescue Orihime he knew deep down in his gut that Grimmjow would be waiting for him. He was stepping inside his lair, right into a trap - or so he thought. However, something stirred inside him when he saw that his enemy had rescued his dear friend from the clutches of whichever monster she was held captive. Seeing Orihime somewhat safe was a relief, a weight - he didn’t know he was carrying before - seemed to have lifted off of his shoulders, and now the only thing left to do was to proceed on wining the next battle.

Grimmjow was waiting for him, expectantly.

Ichigo could hear the drums of a violent battle soon to be unfold, his heart thumping in his chest fast and his whole body trembling from the prospect of seeing the blue-haired Arrancar. He was excited but terrified at the same time as he knew the high stakes of the battle he was fighting. Still, Grimmjow triggered something visceral that was consuming him little-by-little from the inside. Ichigo dared to say he felt pride for being noticed by the other, but the foreign, aching feeling that crawled even on the surface of his skin was— a craving.

Ichigo’s thoughts swirled his mind, still, he tried to keep his usual facade, burying any improper emotion deep down. That proved impossible as every single feeling increased tenfold the moment he saw Grimmjow standing close to him. And when that boisterous voice told him it was time to fight, Ichigo felt like he could let go the trigger of an invisible gun. So, he blurted out:

“Not here”

Grimmjow and his never ending devious smirks got the message loud and clear, both of them sprinting away from the spectators.

They clashed.

Swords lacerating skin.

Gushing wounds painting their skin red.

Grimmjow used his resurrection.

Ichigo released his bankai and hollow mask.

The thrill of battle was something that Ichigo knew all too well, and he wouldn’t admit that the feeling wasn’t all that unpleasant - specially for Grimmjow, who would never let him live in peace if he discovered it.

Then, Grimmjow’s rough voice from exhaustion reached Ichigo’s ears, “You came here to fight me, admit it, Kurosaki!” He laughed as their powers collided in another furious attack.

Ichigo felt a surge of panic as he realized Grimmjow could so easily read him, which made him wonder what faces he was making for the other to get to such conclusions. He wanted to counter, to tell the other that he was wrong, that he was fighting not because it felt good but because he had an obligation to… some greater good or something. In any case, he did have a purpose, he needed to protect the people who he loved. And if that meant fighting enemy after enemy so be it. But instead of denying the accusation, Ichigo chuckled and copied that same smirk the Arrancar usually had on the lips:

“I’ll always fight you.” Ichigo didn’t wait for a reaction from the other, and launched a getsuga tensho.

They fought with claws and teeth, almost literally. And Ichigo couldn’t avoid the thought that if they weren’t in opposite sides, they could have developed some sort of friendly rivalry. Grimmjow and his incessant thirst for the battle field and defeating strong opponents had spiked Ichigo’s interest as he had never seen someone so convicted on battling him. The Arrancar didn’t want to rule worlds, he didn’t care about others, the blue-haired beast just wanted a good fight and to be the king of whatever he thought he should be king of.

Ichigo’s thoughts ran wild and even though his focus was on the battle before him, Grimmjow had almost clawed his face off. Luckily, Ichigo’s quick reflexes saved him. A missed attack didn’t discourage Grimmjow one bit, as another powerful attack reached Ichigo, who kept blocking. For a split second, Ichigo noticed an opening as Grimmjow’s movements started to get sluggish and predictable. He lunged forward, releasing a getsuga tensho right on Grimmjow’s face.

The battle ended not long after.

Out of respect, he held Grimmjow by the wrist preventing his imminent fall on hard sandy ground. He left the unconscious Arrancar there, and shunpoed back to his friends. But, not long before Ichigo had reached them, Grimmjow was back at him, ready to fight - demanding him to fight. Ichigo lunged forward with Grimmjow, but this time Ichigo dropped his sword. He wanted to make a point. Grimmjow and his fight didn’t have to end there with one killing the other, they could go on and on forev— Ichigo paused for a second at the thought.

When Grimmjow barked some insults, demanding him to pick up his sword it was then that Ichigo was sure that they could keep fighting forever. And Ichigo knew he could persuade the other, make a some sort of contract, he was almost convincing Grimmjow that they could meet again at another time. And if it weren’t for the devil Arrancar number 5 to interrupt their exchange of words, perhaps they could have come up with an agreement where they could fight again.

Ichigo would take Grimmjow at any time, anywhere, and he was sure Grimmjow would too. The what ifs in Ichigo’s head kept flooding his mind as he saw Grimmjow on the ground, blood covering every inch of his neck, drenching his clothes.

They’d have been excellent partners. Ichigo thought as he prepared himself to not only defend his friends and himself but also avenge a fallen Arrancar.

-x-

(4)

With everything going to hell as per usual, Ichigo still kept fighting, an obligation to end another battle crawled through his very soul as he knew it was the only way to protect the people he loved. In the middle of all the crisis, Urahara contacted him to update him with some vital information regarding Soul Society and the Quincys. Urahara was in Hueco Mundo, and Ichigo still wasn’t sure what he was doing there, but it didn’t matter Ichigo was sure it had something to do with collecting data and finding a way out of the current situation. What Ichigo wasn’t expecting to hear was a well known voice, a voice that he had wished to hear for a long time now. It had to be HIM shouting in the distance.

“This voice… Is it…?”

He heard some more yelling and cursing before the call went silent for a second and then Urahara kept explaining… something. Ichigo didn’t pay that much attention, his mind was still swirling over the fact that he was sure he had heard Grimmjow’s voice. To think that maybe the Arrancar was alive and doing well stirred something in his very soul. Excitement and anxiousness ran through his body like wildfire, and Ichigo wished that he could see Grimmjow again.

-x-

(5)

Hell went loose. That was one definition of what was going on. Yet, Ichigo was ready to launch into a messy bloodied battle field once more. Another fight that in all reality wasn’t Ichigo’s but somehow he got dragged once more into it. He had fought too many “gods” and tricksters already, one more wouldn’t make a difference now. The only difference was his surprise to know that the remaining Arrancars would help. Even more surprised he was when he saw a Garganta opening and a very familiar blue haired Arrancar appeared before him.

“Grimmjow!” Ichigo gaped, suddenly the air he breathed wasn’t enough and he felt a knot forming in his throat.

Eyes immediately locking in Ichigo’s figure. Those electrifying blue eyes were as mesmerizing as Ichigo remembered them, and that scornful face hadn’t changed a bit. Grimmjow didn’t waste time, closing the distance between Ichigo and himself ready to have a quick fight. They stood in front of each other, eyes trained observing and waiting for any movements, any remarks, anything that could trigger them clashing their swords.

They probably would’ve started fighting already in any other situation, but another familiar green-haired Arrancar crushed him in a hug. At that moment, Ichigo not only heard but saw Grimmjow's annoyance. And for a second Ichigo thought he saw a glimpse of possessiveness in the other. After that, Ichigo got too involved with all the new people arriving and asking questions to really pay attention to Grimmjow. When he finally got the chance, however, he sat down next to the other and tried to talk. Grimmjow mostly scoffed and replied with dry and sarcastic remarks, nonetheless, listening Grimmjow bickering with others and hearing his hoarse deep voice directed to Ichigo affected the substitute shinigami in ways that he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. It wasn’t like they were friends, they barely even had anything in common - as far as a Ichigo was aware of. Yet, Ichigo was excited and glad to see Grimmjow again.

“Why are you helping us?”

“If Hueco Mundo is gone… Where else would I fight you?”

Right then Ichigo was sure that their bickering wasn’t only because they were enemies. Something had changed, the Arrancar Ichigo was looking at wasn’t his enemy anymore. Grimmjow was an ally but more than that the blue haired man was Ichigo’s rival, someone who brought to the surface Ichigo’s true nature; someone who understood Ichigo; who showed their feelings through actions more than words.

Which was why Ichigo panicked the moment Grimmjow lunged himself in the enemy's territory, chasing his opponent. And Ichigo’s heart skipped a beat when he had lost Grimmjow from his sight.

Despite Grimmjow’s reckless actions, Ichigo could see it was his usual pretend game of ‘I don’t care’ to cover the truth behind it: to have Ichigo advancing faster to the final battle. To have Ichigo unscathed as possible.

-x-

(+5.5)

Ichigo wasn’t sure what he expected after the war was over, after they defeated a God. However, he wasn’t expecting to not find Grimmjow. His heart sunk when he didn’t hear from the Arrancar. And even though the days passed by in a blur, Ichigo still felt an emptiness inside of him. Ichigo’s life went back to a mundane pace, he didn’t have anything overly difficult to handle, perhaps the most difficult thing now was his collage classes but he still aced them anyway as if they were the easiest thing he’s ever done. Still, it didn’t matter what he was up to during the day, once his head hit the pillow at night silence and peace wasn't something he had. Ichigo's mind wouldn’t quiet down, Grimmjow still haunted his thoughts night after night. By now Ichigo had realized what was going on with him. Not fulfilling the one thing he wanted long ago had made his mind swirl with thoughts of ‘what if’.

What if he had let his hormones talk when he noticed he had indeed a crush on Grimmjow.

What if he had kissed Grimmjow when he had the chance.

What if Grimmjow came back.

That thought alone branched a thousand more scenarios in his head. And even though no one had ever said anything whether or not Grimmjow was dead made everything worse. Because that gave Ichigo hope. A hope that kept growing day after day that Grimmjow would appear out of thin air in front of him.

Ichigo sighed. Another night he was having trouble sleeping. He had tossed and turned in bed a couple of times by now. Yet, the only thing he could think of was strong arms that could be embracing him if Grimmjow was there.

Ichigo turned around again, facing the wall. The window's curtain open, letting the moonlight dimly lit the room. Ichigo’s eyes glanced up to the night sky. He stared for long minutes, watching the bright stars flicker. He was almost closing his eyes, almost falling asleep when a shadow loomed in front of the window. He jumped out of bed fast, immediately grabbed his shinigami badge and without a second thought he let his body fall flat on the bed and he was in his shinigami form.

Just then he took a good look at the figure at the window.

He gaped.

Mouth slightly open in surprise.

Heart beating fast, feeling like it would burst out of his chest.

He swung the window open, and before the man hovering outside could say anything Ichigo drug him inside and crushed the other in a tight hug; face buried on the other’s neck, hands clutching a white jacket.

“So you missed me.” The man’s hoarse voice came out low and right at Ichigo’s ear.

“Fuck you, Grimmjow!” Ichigo blurted out, but he didn’t release the other from his arms.

“Eh? Took you long enough to tell me that.” Grimmjow laughed, as he nuzzled Ichigo’s neck.

Ichigo had a thousand and one questions for Grimmjow. And another thousand and one curses to be directed at the Arrancar too. Yet, all he could think of now was to have that man in his arms and not let him go; not to let him out of his sight ever again.

#grimmichi #m3kuroshirt #grimmichi challenge #enemies to lovers #writing challenge #grimmichi prompts #grimmichi weekend challenge #kurooswrites #(late by two weeks)

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aredheadedmess · 3 years

Text

Tangled Lights || KSJ (teaser)

Summary: Christmas time is a time of celebration and love. Not for battling head to head with the neighbor across the street in the brightest light show the town has ever seen. When push comes to shove, you’ll do everything you can to keep your family tradition alive—even if that means sabotaging the spirit of Christmas and the chance of making a new friend, or more.

Pairing: Seokjin x F!Reader (with a few cameos ;) )

Word Count (teaser): 560+

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Non-Idol AU, Holiday Rom-Com, Small Town USA (does that really count? lol)

Rating (teaser): G

Warnings (teaser): none!

Notes: First of all, thank you to @kookdiaries for the lovely banner! This is part of Cookies and Christmas Chaos of the Christmas in July collab (hosted by kookdiaries, @xiaokoo, and @kithtaehyung)! The fic is based on the movie ‘Deck the Halls’. As my first ever collab, it’s been so much fun to write for! I hope you enjoy it!

Masterlist

“I get that.” You can hear the quiet sigh he lets out. “But what about all this competition nonsense. Don’t you think you’re pushing it a little too far? Just because he did it doesn’t mean you have to as well.”

You chuckle lightly at Yoongi’s words, glancing away from the window. You know he is only worried because he isn’t and can’t be there to stop you from taking everything too far. That’s how it has always been. For as long as you’ve known him, Yoongi always felt like the older brother you never had. He was there when you needed him most, and even when he left for college, he was always a call away. You found it funny growing up; Yoongi was never worried about anything—even his precious collection of comic books that he always took care of—unless it involves you and the possibility of being hurt in the long run.

“It’s just a friendly competition, Gi. It’s not like I’m gonna let it take over my life.”

Yoongi hums, and you can only imagine the reluctant expression that crosses his face. “I’ll take your word for it. Just don’t forget that Christmas isn’t all about trying to beat someone in being better at something.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Though he couldn’t see you, you swat your hand through the air, waving him off . Suddenly, the doorbells rings, and you let out a quiet squeak in surprise. One that doesn’t get past Yoongi as you can hear him chuckle lightly into his hand. “I gotta go. My giant box of Christmas lights I ordered just arrived.”

“Y/N!”

His loud exclamation has you pulling the phone away from your ear. You laugh, getting a kick out of his—growingly vulgar—reaction.

“Kidding. Kidding,” you laugh between words. “It’s actually my art studio supplies.”

String of muttered curse words forgotten, Yoongi returns to the bubbly tone he was speaking to you in earlier.

“Oh yeah! How’s that going by the way? You gonna open soon?”

“Amazing,” you sigh. “After I set all this stuff up in there, I’ll be ready to open on Monday.”

“That’s awesome, N/N! Once I have a break from work, I’ll be up there to check it out. Then we can celebrate with as much food and drinks as we can take.”

You hum, content. “I’m down for that.”

Growing slightly impatient, whoever is on the other side of your door pounds on the wood. You sigh, exasperated, rolling your eyes at the way the door shakes in the frame.

“Okay, I’ve gotta go or the delivery guy will break my door down with how hard he’s knocking.”

You and Yoongi share a quick ‘talk to you later’ before you end the call. For a moment, the knocking stops, and you think that the delivery guy has finally given up on wanting you to answer the door. But as you put your phone back into your pocket, the harsh knocking starts again.

“I’m coming! I’m coming!” you yell out in annoyance.

When you open the door, you don’t expect to have a plastic covered plate shoved into your face. You groan. Instead of the grumpy delivery guy you thought would be standing on the other side, and a large box filling the majority of the empty space on your porch, you meet eyes with the dark haired devil in disguise.

“What are you doing here?”

If you would like to be added to a taglist for this fic, please comment below or send me an ask!

Read Full Fic Here

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lag1995-fics · 3 years

Note

Hey can I request a fanfic for Evan's character kit walker and song a turning page from twilight?

I hope you like it thank you for requesting. ❤️

Turning Page

Song:Turning Page by Sleeping at Last

Pairing: Kit Walker X Reader

Warnings: some cussing

Words: 2010

Summary:Kit’s highschool sweetheart waits for him

Song Fic Masterlist

////::::////

You and Kit Walker had been high school sweethearts, he was your first love; and if you were being honest he was your only love. You guys had mutually broken things off after highschool when you had gotten into an out of state college.

When you came back the first time after getting your degree, you found out that Kit had moved on and married a woman called Alma. You weren’t jealous, a little disappointed maybe, but you were genuinely happy for them. Kit was a good man and you had always known he would make a good husband. You couldn’t put yourself through watching them though, you had never given up on your relationship with Kit. He had ruined you for other men. You had other boyfriends during school but the longest relationship had only lasted a month.

You decided to move back to Boston leaving your small town life behind. You loved a relatively happy life in the city, distracting yourself from the life you wished you had. You had gotten a degree in education, so you threw yourself into teaching children.

You had been happy to hear that they had apparently apprehended the serial killer, who went by the bloody face moniker. Well you had until they said it was Kit Walker, you reasoned with yourself that it had to be someone else named Kit Walker. Your Kit would never be able to do something as heinous as what they claimed Bloodyface did. Your Kit was a gentle soul, who would do his best to bring happiness and peace to anyone he might meet.

When you saw his face flash on the evening news that night you had broken down and sobbed. Kit was being framed for a murder he hadn’t committed. He wouldn’t even kill a spider much less the woman he married. You had started making calls trying to get on as a character witness. That whole town was racist and this stunk of a town coverup.

They wouldn’t let you be his witness though, they claimed you hadn’t spoken to him for over six years. You had screamed and cried even harder when they rejected you. You had never stopped loving Kit even if it had to be one sided from afar. You wrote him letters trying to convey to him that people still believed in him. That you would always love and believe him.

He never wrote you back. The guards at the prison who checked his mail had scoffed thinking of you as some loon and had trashed them. When he was committed to Briarcliff Asylum they too disposed of the many letters.

When you hear of Kit’s death you fall into a dark depression. You’re barely hanging on, when you happen to skim a blip in a newspaper. You almost choke when you see his face. He’s a bit older, but it is unmistakably Kit Walker. The article however was not a happy one: the man’s wife Alma had murdered a woman that lived with them in a fit of apparent hysteria.

Without preamble you packed a suitcase and began the trip back home. Kit would need you, not as a lover, that ship had sailed but he would need you as a friend. He was almost entirely alone now and with two toddlers to boot. You couldn’t help but feel the joythat he was alive even though it was steeped in sadness at his tragic loss.

Alma had been a sweet girl from what she could tell. She had never met her in person but if Kit married her it was apparent that she was a good person. She had been missing for so long though, she had been traumatized and snapped. It wasn’t her fault that bad things had happened and lord knows that the country's mental health system left a lot to be desired.

It had taken you almost all day to find the farmhouse that Kit lived in. It was dusk and the sun was starting to set. You took a steadying breath hoping that you weren’t overstepping any boundaries. You had flown out of the house with barely any thought, relying mostly on instinct. You hadn’t been able to help Kit when he was accused of being Bloodyface but you could certainly help now without the government involved.

You eased yourself out of the old Buick you were driving and shut the door. You began to make your way to the door but it opened before you got the chance to knock. There he was, he was still handsome as ever, but he had lost that carefree air he had when they were young. You supposed you had probably lost that too.

“I already told you I’m not doing an interview, leave my family in peace!” His voice was angry and you were now unsure if you had made the right decision. Then as if he hadn’t really been looking at you before, his eyes widened.

“Y/n?” He asked questioningly the anger had drained from his voice.

“Oh Kit I heard what happened I needed to make sure you were okay,” you explained trying not to cringe. You probably seemed like a crazy person showing up at your highschool sweetheart’s home after his wife had murdered someone.

“I thought you lived in Boston?” He questioned, still surprised at your arrival.

“I do, I hopped in my car as soon as I heard, I thought you might need some help. If I’m imposing I apologize… I can leave,” you were rambling, it was something you were prone to when nervous.

“No! Uh I mean no, you could never be an imposition doll. Come inside, I didn’t think anyone cared about me anymore,” he lamented, meeting her halfway on her way to the house. You got a better look at him up close. He still had beautiful brown eyes but there were dark bruise like bags underneath them. You could tell he hadn’t been sleeping well, and really who would after something like this happened.

You followed Kit inside his home, it still smelt of the bleach they used to get up the blood, but it was warm and cozy. You looked over and could see the two toddlers playing together on a rug with some blocks.

“This is Julia and Thomas,” he said, gesturing to the kids who barely spared them a glance.

“They’re precious,” you commented.

“Yeah they are pretty great, must take after their old man,” he bragged teasingly but it was half hearted.

“Kit,Are you okay?” You asked, laying a hand on.

“I will be,” there was a determination in his voice this time looking at the children playing happily unaware.

“If you need anything at all just tell me” you begged, hoping he would take the help. This trip wasn’t entirely unselfish, you had missed Kit the moment you left for college and the feeling had never left. It hadn’t faded with time like these things are meant to do, you had never stopped loving Kit and you would wait a thousand years if that’s what it took. You didn’t expect any romance, you knew that ship had sailed, but you would be there for your dearest and oldest friend.

“Don’t you have a life or a lover in Boston, surely you don’t want to spend time with someone as pathetic as me.” His self deprecating comment made you jerk him by the arm so he was facing you.

“You listen to me Kit Walker, you are one of the most gentle humans I’ve ever met. You are an incredibly good man and you deserve all the love and help in the world. Let someone help you, you don’t have to go through this alone,” You declared, staring directly into his brown eyes with your own y/e/c ones.

He only nodded before taking you into a friendly hug holding you close to his chest, his head buried into your shoulder. You felt a shuddering sob wrack through him. You only held him, you didn’t know how much time had passed as you held him close letting him sob. When he finally pulled away you could see the gratitude in his eyes.

****

Days bled into weeks and weeks bled into months as you stayed with Kit. Things for the most part remained platonic apart from a few lingering glances from each other. You didn’t want to put any pressure on the relationship. You had meant what you said when you told him you were here to help him. You would love Kit however you could get him be it romantic or platonic. You would always wait on him.

When he had come home one day in tears you had just held him. Alma had died that day and Kit had lost his wife for a third time and the children had lost their mother’s.

More time would pass and things became increasingly comfortable between you two. You had taken a teaching position at the elementary school the next town over and Kit continued to work as a mechanic.

It had been a day like many others when it happened. Kit had come home covered in a layer of oil and grease and you had been making dinner. After he had showered, he came into the kitchen to watch you cook and help Julia and Thomas with their homework. It was really quite domestic.

After dinner you had wrestled the children into bed and retired to the living room to watch television. You had felt the burning of Kit’s eyes on you and you turned to look at him pulling a face.

“Why did you stay?” He asked with a puzzled look on his face, “Your help has been indispensable, but it’s a year now and your still here. Aren’t you tired of me yet?”

“Oh, I can start looking for an apartment. I never wanted to overstay my welcome. I guess I just got comfortable being around you and the twins, is like breathing air” You rambled hiding your burning cheeks. He wouldn’t take that though and he grabbed you by your shoulders making you look at him.

“Doll I’m not kicking you out, you can stay forever if you want. I just don’t understand why you would want to stay with me,” he said and you gulped looking into his eyes.

“Oh Kit you’re the best person I know. Did you not get that with the hundreds of letters I sent to you in prison and while you were at Briarcliff” you joked trying to lessen the tension. You had never brought up the letters before you were honestly pretty embarrassed by them.

“What letters!?” He pulled back looking hard at you.

“I wrote to you everyday up until they announced your death” you explained cheeks filled with liquid fire.

“Fuck! He cursed getting up and pacing.

“I never got a single letter, y/n” he said and you not knowing what to do approached him opening your arms. He fell into your embrace burying his face in your hair.

“I’m sorry,” you croaked unsure of what to say.

“Don’t be sorry doll, but it still doesn’t explain why you want to be around me” He started in again and you couldn't help the anger that spilled forward. You took your fist and hit his chest.

“Because I love you dummy, I never stopped,” his eyes went wide at your declaration.

“What?” He asked dumbly, his limbs going numb.

“I love you Kit and I’ll always be there for you if you need me. If it’s only as a friend I can live with that, at least I get to be with you,” Your cheeks burned for the third time in what seemed like an hour.

Kit not knowing what to say decided to act on instinct. He gathered you in his arms and pressed his lips against your own in a searing kiss. You clutched at each other desperately the tension finally snapped.

“I love you too Doll.”

Requests are open drop a song or a prompt in my ask box ❤️

#kit walker x reader #kit walker #kitten #Kit walker is a babe #ahs asylum fanfiction #fluffy #evan peters #peter maximoff fanfiction #fem reader #gender neutral reader #reader insert #ahs fanfiction #fanfiction

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trilliastra · 3 years

Text

[jiang cheng x lan xichen coffee shop/bakery AU where everyone is alive and happy and nothing traumatizing happened. some jingyi x jin ling on the side just because.]

“Where do you wanna eat?” Jiang Cheng checks the mirror, turns on the blinker and starts to turn the wheel to the left only to let out a curse when the car behind him speeds up suddenly, trying to pass.

“There is this new coffee shop-” Jin Ling trails off.

“For dinner?” Jiang Cheng slams his hand on the horn when the idiot drives past him, but finally manages to change lanes. It’s almost eight-thirty, the traffic shouldn’t be this shitty.

“Yeah.” Jin Ling says. “I’m kind of the in mood for a sandwich.”

Jiang Cheng arches an eyebrow, but shrugs in the end. He’s kind of in the mood for a sandwich too.

The coffee shop is near Jin Ling’s school, a small store next to the book shop his sister loves so much. It is warm inside and Jiang Cheng takes off his scarf with a sigh, already eyeing the menu that is hanging on the wall. It smells like coffee and cake and Jiang Cheng’s eyes wander towards the cheesecake on display over the counter. He is supposed to be a on a diet – forced upon him by his sister – but he figures he will get Jin Ling a big slice of cake and his nephew won’t tell her.

A win is a win.

“Oh, hi, Jingyi.” He hears Jin Ling say, turns to watch his nephew waving towards the boy working behind the counter. Huh.

“Hi, Jin Ling.” The boy says, long hair tied on a high ponytail. He looks the same age as Jin Ling, perhaps older, and when he smiles at them, the tip of Jin Ling’s ears turns pink.

Ah.

“What can I get you?” Jingyi asks. Jin Ling does not answer, apparently too busy staring at the other boy and Jiang Cheng huffs out a laugh.

“The meatball sandwich for me.” Jiang Cheng answers, stepping up and nudging his nephew with his elbow. “Jin Ling?”

His nephew blinks, ears going from pink to bright red. “Ah, the same.” He coughs awkwardly. “And a coke.”

“Make that two cokes.” Jiang Cheng says, reaching out for his wallet. “Do you want something else, A-Ling?” He teases, barely managing to hide his smirk.

When Jin Ling does not answer again, too busy glaring daggers at Jiang Cheng, Jingyi huffs out a laugh. “I saved you a piece of your favorite strawberry cake.” He says, his own ears turning pink, but he keeps his eyes on Jin Ling, embarrassed but still confident.

Jin Ling manages to let out a ‘yes, thank you’ before he’s all but running towards a table near the window – and coincidentally far, far away from the counter – leaving Jiang Cheng alone with the other boy. “Anything else, sir?” The boy keeps his eyes on him, holding his ground. Jiang Cheng is known for acting intimidating – Wei Wuxian says it’s his normal face, really – and while he stares at him, Jingyi visibly squirms, despite the bravado, but Jiang Cheng is thoroughly impressed.

“A slice of that cheesecake.” He says, nodding. Jingyi nods back.

“So,” Jiang Cheng sits down, “is their sandwich any good?”

Jin Ling groans, dropping his head on the table. “Stop.” Jiang Cheng smirks, reaches out to pat Jin Ling’s head teasingly. His nephew lifts his head up immediately, hands going up to fix his hair.

“Do your parents know?”

“There is nothing to know.” Jin Ling whispers aggressively. “I just – I kind of like him, but – it’s not like I want them asking me questions.”

Well, understandable. The first time Jiang Cheng dated a boy, he was in high school and despite his sister being the sweetest, kindest person in the world, she is also, somehow, terrifying. When she talked to the guy, he was thoroughly scarred for life. And the worst part is that Jiang Cheng couldn’t even be mad at her afterwards, because she genuinely did not know she was scaring him.

He doesn’t know how Jin Zixuan would react, but if he finds out about this, then Jiang Yanli certainly will.

“And you’re the only normal uncle I have.” Jin Ling keeps going. “Like,” Jin Ling waves his hand around, “can you even imagine?” He shudders, looking down at his hands.

Even though the bar is pretty low on that one, Jiang Cheng will take the backhanded compliment and enjoy it. Along with his cheesecake.

“Here is your sandwich.” Jingyi says, placing the sandwich in front of Jiang Cheng, along with his coke, and then doing the same with Jin Ling. “I’ll be right back with your cakes.”

Before Jiang Cheng can open his mouth, Jin Ling is already letting out a strangled ‘thank you’, waving at Jingyi’s back.

Once the other boy disappears behind a door with a sign that reads ‘kitchen’, Jin Ling turns to Jiang Cheng with a desperate look on his face. “Help.” He pleads and Jiang Cheng finally lets out the laugh he was trying to hold.

“Do you go the same school?” Jiang Cheng asks, eyeing the huge sandwich. This will last him dinner and tomorrow’s breakfast. His sister will kill him.

“Yeah.” Jin Ling answers, already diving for his third bite. Teenagers. “He’s graduating this year and then I’ll never see him again. Jiujiu, this is my last chance!” He says, looking at him with big pleading eyes.

His first thought is that Jin Ling must be spending too much time with Wei Wuxian, but then he remembers the mess that was Jin Zixuan at seventeen and really, it’s not like Jin Ling had much of a chance.

“Have you tried, I don’t know, asking him out?” Jiang Cheng has always been a very upfront person. It has gotten him into trouble before and, more than once, it ended on humiliation and him breaking something out of anger, but it also saved him a lot of time and much heartbreak.

Jin Ling rolls his eyes, opens his mouth to answer, but as if on cue, Jingyi is back with their cakes. His nephew’s expression goes from annoyed to smitten in a nanosecond and Jiang Cheng bites on his sandwich to stop himself from laughing again.

“Holy shit.” He lets out without even thinking, pulls back to stare at the sandwich and frown. “How is this so good?”

Jingyi laughs while Jin Ling slaps a hand over his face, embarrassed, and Jiang Cheng takes another bite curiously. Yeah, the meatballs are so tender they melt in his mouth and the sauce is sweet but with a hint of something spicy and he never thought bread could taste so good.

“Yeah, that happens something.” Jingyi says, still laughing. Jin Ling’s eyes widen as he keeps looking at him, mouth open with an expression of pure adoration.

If the sandwich weren’t so good, Jiang Cheng would have thrown it at his face.

“Can I have another one?” Jiang Cheng asks.

“You didn’t even finish this one!” Jin Ling points out.

“It’s for Wei Wuxian.” Jiang Cheng says. “I’m gonna make him eat it and then not tell him where I got it. It’s going to drive him crazy.” Jin Ling groans, burying his face in his hands.

Jingyi pats his shoulder, friendly, and Jin Ling’s entire body jerks back in surprise and he knocks his glass off the table, breaking it in tiny pieces and spilling coke everywhere.

“I’m sorry!” Jin Ling cries out, kneeling down immediately to try and clean it up, but he only manages to cut himself with a glass shard while Jingyi tries to stop him from moving.

Jin Ling’s cry of pain startles Jiang Cheng from his food induced euphoria and he immediately reaches out for his nephew’s hand, holding a napkin over the cut while Jingyi watches them worriedly.

The sound also manages to grab the attention of some of the other costumers and the coffee shop goes silent, the background noise stopping as everyone looks at them curiously.

“Jingyi,” someone calls, “what happened?”

“It was an accident!” he hears Jingyi answer at the same time Jin Ling yells, “it was my fault!”, followed by the sound of steps getting closer and when Jiang Cheng finally looks up, he comes face to face with the most beautiful man he’s ever seen. And he is wearing crocs.

Jiang Cheng is not a snob. He’s been known to only wearing the same pair of black dress pants and purple dress shirt to every social event that requires formal wear, he still owns (and uses) t-shirts that he bought when he was in college and he showed up to Jin Ling’s middle school graduation party wearing jeans. He could not be less of a snob.

But there is something about crocs that he always associated with guys like Wei Wuxian – freelance journalists that don’t care about how they look and sometimes forget to shower because they are too immersed on their job – and not a business owner that can cook delicious meatball sandwiches.

Jiang Cheng feels his eyebrow twitching when the man sits down, pastel blue crocs in plain view, and starts disinfecting Jin Ling’s cut.

“This happens all the time with Jingyi.” The man – “call me, Lan Xichen” – says, smiling at Jiang Cheng’s nephew. He has the kindest smile Jiang Cheng has ever seen on someone who is not his sister.

Jin Ling looks at the other boy shyly. Jingyi simply shrugs. “I always born clumsy.”

Lan Xichen huffs out a laugh. “That is true.” He agrees, reaching out for the band-aids. He sticks one over Jin Ling’s cut and squeezes his shoulder softly. “So, you’re Jin Ling. Jingyi talks a lot about you.”

“Oh,” Jin Ling goes bright red, then risks a glance at Jingyi who is already looking at him, “really?”

“Well,” Jingyi’s shrugs bashfully, “yeah.”

“Oh.” Jin Ling repeats, straightening up and puffing up his chest like a peacock. He looks exactly like his father.

Jiang Cheng snorts, shaking his head at the thought, watching Jingyi pull Jin Ling towards the far corner of the shop.

Lan Xichen watches them as well before he’s standing up to turn the sign on the door from open to closed. “Are you his father?” He asks Jiang Cheng.

“God, no.” Jiang Cheng answers. He risks a glance towards the boys, Jingyi holding Jin Ling’s hand carefully. It seems as if he’s inspecting Jin Ling’s wound, but Jiang Cheng can see the faint blush on his cheeks. “I’m his uncle.”

“Ah,” Lan Xichen nods, “that explains it.”

Jiang Cheng frowns. “Explains what?”

“The flirting.” He gestures towards the boys as they seem to be getting closer and closer to each other. Jiang Cheng hopes they won’t start making out, that is just something he does not want to see.

“Well,” Jiang Cheng shrugs, “Jin Ling said I’m his normal uncle.”

Lan Xichen laughs, a melodic sound, and Jiang Cheng almost forgets about the crocs – if only they weren’t fucking pastel blue.

“It was a gift from my nephew.” Lan Xichen explains when he notices Jiang Cheng staring at the hideous thing. “He’s five and obsessed with them. He also came to visit this morning, so-” he trails off.

“Ah,” Jiang Cheng teases, “that explains it.”

This time Lan Xichen lets out another laugh and Jiang Cheng swallows heavily, watching the laughter lines around the sides of his mouth, the expanse of his jaw. When the other man turns around, still laughing, to turn off some of the lights on the shop, Jiang Cheng stares at his back, the hard muscles under the tight white shirt.

The low ponytail only adds up to the look and Jiang Cheng feels his mouth water.

“So, did you like the food?” Lan Xichen asks, turning to him again with that same smile. Jiang Cheng wonders if he can even stop smiling and that leads to him thinking about all the other things he could be doing with those lips and –

“Ah, yeah.” Jiang Cheng answers as Lan Xichen stares at him. It seems as if hanging out with a seventeen-year-old with a crush for too long has made him regress to his own teenage years.

Lan Xichen keeps looking at him, curious, assessing, and Jiang Cheng has to look away, unable to hold his gaze, and his eyes stop on the cheesecake on the counter. It still looks delicious and Jiang Cheng groans when he realizes he never had the chance to even taste it.

“Oh.” Lan Xichen laughs. “I can arrange it to go, if you’d like.”

“Yeah.” Jiang Cheng agrees, checking his watch. It’s almost ten and he still needs to drive Jin Ling home. “I think that would be better.” He risks a glance towards his nephew, shakes his head when he sees the boys holding hands, faces close together and whispering to each other. Jingyi takes the ribbon that was tying his hair and ties it around Jin Ling’s wrist, pressing a kiss on his hand.

Jiang Cheng smiles, despite himself, and rolls his eyes.

“You’re not a romantic, are you?” Lan Xichen points out. For the first time that night, he’s not smiling. His face still looks soft, but he seems more confused now, maybe a little – annoyed?

Jiang Cheng shrugs. “I don’t know what I am. No one ever did that to me.” He comments, absent-mindedly. “But they look happy, so–”

“What?” Lan Xichen interrupts.

Jiang Cheng frowns, but before he can answer Lan Xichen has already moved away, taking the abandoned plate with the cheesecake and placing the slice inside a little box decorated with Christmas figurines.

“Look, I –” he doesn’t know what exactly he’s trying to say, doesn’t know why he suddenly feels like he needs to explain himself to a stranger, but Lan Xichen does not let him finish, just turns around and heads for the kitchen, “what the fuck?” That was the most confusing interaction Jiang Cheng has ever had and he grew up with Wei Wuxian and all his – personality.

Was he offended by Jiang Cheng’s unromantic feelings? Was he angry? Is he plotting to take Jingyi away from Jin Ling because his uncle is clearly an asshole?

Jiang Cheng keeps wondering, staring at the door, when Lan Xichen comes back holding several small boxes. He places them all on the counter and starts to rummage around searching for something with a determined look.

Cookies. Inside each box there seems to be different types of cookies, with different shapes and frostings. A pink heart, a yellow star, Santa Claus with a red hat and white beard, a penguin – for some reason – and several Christmas trees.

“Huh-”

“These are for you,” Lan Xichen explains. Jiang Cheng arches an eyebrow, he did not order– “I am romancing you.”

Jiang Cheng blinks, slowly, lets his mouth hang open in surprise. “What?”

Lan Xichen smiles again, proudly. “They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.” He gestures towards all the boxes and the cookies and Jiang Cheng still doesn’t understand. “You said no one has ever done something romantic to you.” He explains.

Jiang Cheng feels himself blushing, squirming under the intensity in Lan Xichen’s gaze. He doesn’t know if he should feel touched or embarrassed. “You don’t have to.” He manages to say.

“I wanted to.” Lan Xichen promises, holding out a piece of paper. “Call me?” He asks. “So, we can go out to eat something that was not cooked by me?”

Jiang Cheng swallows, heavily. “But I liked your food.”

“Ah,” Lan Xichen laughs, “call me anyway. So, I can cook something just for you.”

That is not an innuendo, Jiang Cheng tells himself, Lan Xichen did not mean it like that, he keeps repeating in his head. But it is too late now, the idea has been planted in his brain, it has started to create roots, he will be thinking about it for weeks.

“Jiujiu,” Jin Ling calls, suddenly, and Jiang Cheng forces himself to look away from Lan Xichen’s smile, “my mom is calling.” He shows his phone and Jiang Cheng curses himself. He promised they’d be home by ten, ten-fifteen at most.

“Tell her we’re on our way.” He turns to Lan Xichen, almost sadly, and takes the paper with his number. Lan Xichen rushes to put all the boxes inside plastic bags and then asks Jingyi to help them carry them to Jiang Cheng’s car.

While the boys say goodbye with a long hug, Jiang Cheng turns to Lan Xichen, almost wishing he was a teenager so he could do the same. “I will call you.” He says. Lan Xichen nods, reaching out to squeeze Jiang Cheng’s hand, doesn’t let it go until Jiang Cheng pulls back and even then, his touch linger, fingers caressing Jiang Cheng’s palm in a silent promise.

“Why did you buy all these cookies?” Jin Ling asks, smiling happily like the teenager in love that he is.

“Just felt like it.” Jiang Cheng answers, smiling happily as well.

#jiang cheng x lan xichen #xicheng #lan xichen x jiang cheng #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #my fic #well there you have it

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lovingrosewho · 3 years

Text

The Executioner’s Song (rewrite, sort of)

NOW, ONTO THE GOOD STUFF, and that means, the new stuff :-) I’ve been rewatching all Supernatural seasons and just had to write this. Disclaimer: English isn’t my first language, feel free to give any feedback/suggestions! <3 Ily all, thanks for reading <3

ONE SHOT

Pairing: Crowley x Reader, sort of Castiel x Reader but in a friendly way

Rating: T. Angst, fluff

Word count: 3.1k+

Summary: the title pretty much explains it buuut, basically, Reader gets upset about Dean betraying Crowley

Warnings: SPOILERS AHEAD IF YOU HAVEN’T WATCHED SEASON 10, signs of depression, dialogues taken from the series at the beginning, a few curse words I guess?

When Dean handles the First Blade over to Castiel instead of Crowley, your eyes open wide in shock.

“You lied to me” Crowley says, you can sense the hurt from the betrayal in his voice.

“It’s not the first time today” Dean makes a pause with the demon’s expectant eyes “Cain’s list? You weren’t on it” Dean says and with this, Crowley vanishes.

You begin to feel dizzy, nauseous even, a void made of uncertainty taunts your heart and your stomach, you try to hide it behind being worried about Dean, which is partly true and you let that show as you hug him, relieved he’s alive, in one piece and, mostly, or so it seems, sane. Castiel looks over at you and you just know, he knows.

The four of you get to the bunker. Not a word from anyone. At the very arrival, you excuse yourself pretending a headache along the tiredness of the whole trip, so you practically run to your room.

The minute you close the door you dial Crowley’s cellphone, your hands shaking as you do so.

Straight to voice mail. You dial again.

“Damn it Crowley, pick up the fucking phone” you pray lowly.

Voice mail again. You’ve got to be kidding. You dial a third time.

“What is it that you want?” he finally answers, voice tone a bit raised, taking into account it’s you and he never raises his voice with you, either way, you can’t but let a breath out of relief at hearing him.

“Can you come over here? Please, I’m in my room” you’re not finished telling him and he hangs up.

“Damn it Crowley!” you exclaim again while you dial his number a fourth time, the second ring hasn’t sound when he appears standing in front of you.

“What?!” he almost screams, locking the door of your room with his demon powers. He’s not afraid about Sam and Dean coming in, all guns waving and pointing at him, no, he fears for you, aware that if the Winchesters hear you, not only will they scold you, but could also stop trusting you, hell, they could even lock you up thinking it was his doing the fact that you were friends with him.

“I didn’t know!” you confess instantly, body trembling and feeling like you’re going to puke any minute. You know how Crowley feels about treason, you know damn well and you just can’t let him think you had anything to do with it. He takes a few steps back and looks at you up and down.

“Why should I believe you, (Y/N)? And how? How am I supposed to believe you? Tell me” he raises his voice once again, he doesn’t like doing that with you but this time he just can’t help himself “If you four had only told me the truth I would have gladly agreed and helped you!”

“I know, I know!” you whimper, knowing that is a big-ass declaration from Crowley, and that he wouldn’t normally admit to it, he’s just doing it because it’s you, and he’s hurt. You try to maintain your posture and not let your voice crack weeping “I swear, I had nothing to do with it, if I had known I’d have tried to convince Dean to tell you the truth! I swear!”

Crowley is about to vanish, tired of listening to you, tired of the lies, of the doubts; first his minions being influenced by Abaddon, then his mother, next the Winchesters and now... he never thought he would doubt of his most beloved hunter. A single tear escapes your eyes and Crowley stops dry from disappearing, the temptation to remove that single tear being more powerful than him, the King of Hell.

You’ve known Crowley since he was a blood junkie, locked up in the Winchester’s dungeon. Your friendship started as a naïve excuse to pass the time, at first with just a couple of hostile phrases a day when you found him, and obviously discovered he was a demon, not just any demon but the King of Hell himself, and soon after it turned into something else. When you broke your arm in a fight and had to spend a couple of months skipping on hunts, the boredom increased your time in the dungeon with Crowley while the boys were gone, and you began to admit you liked the guy, perhaps a little too much. Months kept passing and the habit of sneaking into Crowley’s room while the boys were out, stayed, sometimes you would even take the cuffs and chains off of him and let him walk and stretch inside the devils trap, he would always behave and let you put the chains back on. When he managed to free himself from the brothers, he would visit you in your room when no one else in the bunker could hear you; you would talk about anything, his life, your life, Hell, current or past hunts, funny anecdotes... you were not ready to lose that. Not now, not ever.

Crowley stares deep into your eyes as he holds your face in both his hands and wipes the tear off your cheek.

“Look at me... and tell me if I’m lying” you say slowly. He sighs.

“I’m sorry, Pet. I can’t” and with this final sentence, he leaves the room, disappearing and leaving you alone.

You swallow hard, your steps conducting you backwards until you hit the end of the bed and are able to sit. At last, you break down in tears, sobs and whines flooding you from the inside out when you hear a knock at the door.

“(Y/N)?” it’s Castiel “(Y/N) are you okay?”

You don’t respond, and Cas is forced to unlock the door and come in. He stares in shock at you but immediately locks the door back so Sam and Dean won’t come up asking questions. He sits next to you and doubtfully touches your shoulder for you to look at him, which you don’t do.

“He won’t talk to me ever again Castiel” you say in between sobs.

“Who won’t?” he asks confused, but having a mild idea of who you might be referring to.

“Crowley! He thinks I knew about Dean handing over the blade to you and not him...” you keep whimpering “He won’t believe me, whatever we had it’s over”.

Cas nods understandingly and reaches out to hug you, your face covering his chest with tears.

“(Y/N) maybe it’s for the best... Crowley is...” he begins but you interrupt him, separating from his grip.

“No you don’t understand. He’s changed. I know it seems impossible but he has. And he truly believed he could be friends with us, I know it, I know him. Castiel I...” your voice breaks.

“(Y/N)” he intertwines his hand with yours “I know”.

He holds you again, and you cry and cry for hours in that same position with him until you fall asleep. Castiel lifts you up and leaves you laying across your bed, he takes your shoes off and puts a few blankets on top of you.

When he comes down everything is quiet, the Winchesters have surely gone to sleep, or at least get some rest after the day they’ve had.

The following morning you don’t come out of your room, not for breakfast, dinner, research, anything.

“What’s up with (Y/N)?” Deans asks, looking towards your room.

“She...” Castiel tries to explain “Wasn’t feeling very well. I’ll go check on her”.

The brothers look at each other and nod at Castiel’s offer.

“Hey, could you please bring her something to eat?” Sam asks politely.

“Yes. Of course” Cas answers.

When he enters your room, he notices you haven’t changed your clothes, and you’re in the same position he left you last night.

“(Y/N)?” he says, leaving a tray of food on your desk “How are you feeling?”

“Not hungry” you say without facing him, smelling the hot breakfast he just left a couple of feet away from you.

“Well... you need to eat. You’re human” he reminds you.

“So? Not hungry” you repeat. He sits beside you and slightly caresses your hair.

“Okay then, we’ll be downstairs if you need us... or just, you know, pray for me” he tells you before getting up and prepare to leave your room until you jump all of a sudden.

“Wait! Castiel!” you say, startling him.

“What? Whats is it?”

“Please... don’t tell Dean what this is about... he’ll just... he wouldn’t understand” you beg him. Cas nods his head in agreement.

“Of course”.

When Cas comes down, both Winchesters are looking at him, raising his hands as asking what is going on.

“It’s... like I said, she’s not feeling very well” he tells them when he’s at the table with both.

“Well what does she have?” Deans asks demandingly.

“I... she wouldn’t say” Cas lies, which gains him a weird look from Dean.

“Ok that’s it, I’m going up” declares Dean and Cas gets up sharply.

“Dean! No! She said she didn’t wanna be bothered” Castiel exclaims worried.

The weird look on Dean remains until he rolls his eyes, says “fine” and heads for the kitchen instead.

Sam has stayed silent the whole time until Dean leaves.

“Cas” Sams calls him in a low voice “Is this about Crowley?”

Castiel sighs and nods.

“Guess she’ll just have to pull through with this one” Sam follows Castiel’s sigh.

You don’t go out of your room for two days in a row, sadness consuming you. The third day you decide you’ve had enough and come downstairs to help the boys with research, no one says a word but Dean.

“Hiya there kiddo, had us worried sick but Cas said you didn’t wanna be bothered, everything okay?” Dean tells you, making you smile softly.

“Yeah, yeah. Just you know, some headaches, it felt like I was hungover the whole day, guess that tension from the last adventure really took a hit on me” you lie marvelously.

“Yeah. But you’re back, we are back, and that’s what matters” Dean tells you and you smile nodding, containing your tears again, you know you are not fully back.

It’s been a couple of weeks and Crowley won’t answer any of your calls, hence you stop calling him.

You miss him, you miss his voice and spending time with him. The boys notice even if you’re back up enlisting on hunts and helping them, something’s definitely off with you. You don’t eat enough, you practically don’t sleep, you barely smile or laugh anymore, and you seem distracted half of the time. It hurts Castiel more than anyone seeing you like this, so he decides to break his vow and talk to Dean.

“You have to call Crowley” he tells Dean when he and Sam are alone in the bunker whilst you are in your room “You have to tell him it was your idea to give the blade to me, you can even mention Sam but not (Y/N)”.

“And why would I do that?” Dean asks confused and a bit angry.

“Look around you Dean” Sam tells him “Something’s off with (Y/N) since that day, it’s not even 9pm and she’s already locked in her room, she didn’t even eat when we got back”.

Dean looks at both of them and grunts.

“How are you so sure this is about Crowley?”

“Because she told me” Castiel confesses “Now, call him”.

Dean looks impassive at Cas and Sam but takes his phone out and dials Crowley’s number.

First call goes to voice mail.

“Well that’s it, I’m not calling that dickbag again” he declares and Cas catches his arm, grabbing and stopping him from putting away his cellphone.

“Try again” Castiel threatens. Dean rolls his eyes but agrees.

“Squirrel, long time no see” Crowley finally answers “How are you?”

“Listen you son of a bitch” Dean begins “I don’t know what you did or told (Y/N) but...”

“Oh I didn’t tell, much less do, anything to her”.

It hasn’t been easier for Crowley. He’s got the advantage he doesn’t eat nor sleep, but distraction has definitely been present. Every time his mother or his minions call him he’s just thinking of you, about answering your calls, about calling back. He misses you, your voice, your laugh.

“Well she hasn’t been okay and the only thing I know is it has to do with you” Dean tells him “She hasn’t anything to do with the fact that I didn’t handle you the blade, that’s on me, Sam and perhaps Cas, but not her. She knew nothing, you hear me? Nothing. ‘Cause see here’s the thing, we didn’t tell her ‘cause I knew you two got along and if I had told her she would have put up a fight and claim it was unfair. Now she won’t sleep, nor eat enough, she’s distracted on hunts and that almost got her killed a couple of times already, so you either fix it or I’ll come down there looking to kill you Crowley I swear”.

With this last phrase he hangs up and throws his phone away, without expecting Crowley to answer, this is non-negotiable.

The King of Hell’s stomach suddenly fills with hope and excitement, it’s not the fact that Dean called him about what happened, no, it’s just that he did not know you cared that much for him, he’d figured after a while you would stop calling and move on.

You wake up in the middle of the night and... what time is it exactly? Phone says 3am. Great. You sit slowly, yawning, still sleepy, and turn on your bedside lamp.

Suddenly you see Crowley standing in front of you and you almost scream whilst reaching for your gun.

“Crowley! For the love of... what the actual hell are you doing in my room?!” you hiss at him, exasperated, tossing the gun aside.

“Well hello to you too, love” he exclaims sarcastically.

“Answer the question, what are you doing here?” you ask again, tired and afraid this is just some sick joke.

“I was bored. Thought I’d pay you a visit” he says walking, or more like snooping, around your room.

“And you needed to do that at 3 in the morning? When I’m sleeping? And when you haven’t returned my calls in weeks?” you reclaim but he stays silent, still going through some of the stuff placed at your desk.

You exhale sharply.

“Whatever, I need to pee, do not touch anything, you understand me?”

“Yes, yes. Understood, Pet. I’ll be right here”.

You get up from your bed and walk barefoot towards the restroom. When you’re sit in the toilet, your mind begins wondering what truly brings the King of Hell to your room. Perhaps he’s aware that you miss him. Perhaps he misses you too. Or maybe it’s a dream. Maybe he is telling the truth and was just bored of all the meetings.

You get back to your room to find Crowley laying across your bed.

“Everything alright, Pet? Was beginning to wonder what took you so long” he tells you. Deep, dark stare into your eyes.

“Yeah” you say, approaching the edge of the bed, staring back at him “I do everything slower at this time. Now, scoot over”.

He slides a few inches to the side of the bed, letting you lay down next to him. You turn a few degrees facing him, while Crowley keeps looking at the ceiling, but paying attention to every and each one of your moves, that is until you place your arm across his chest and your hand begins mindlessly caressing the thin fabric from his suite shirt, while you breathe in his scent, the sulphur, the ash, the expensive scotch and fresh cologne.

“(Y/N)?” he begins carefully, voice low “What are you doing?“

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Yes, beg your pardon, why are you doing it?” Crowley asks but cautiously places an arm around you and starts stroking your hair.

“I... I’ve missed you” you confess as you bury your face in his shoulder “Does... does this bother you?”

Your question puts a soft smile in his mouth while he turns to look at your half-hidden face.

“Not in the slightest, kitten” his declaration is greeted with a relieved and dreamy sigh from you “I’ve missed you too, you know?”

“You have?” you ask incredulously “I thought you didn’t care...”

“Of course I care. But here I thought you were the one who didn’t care...” that’s when your engines start rotating and it hits you.

“Did you speak to Castiel?” you interrogate him, fully facing him now.

“Castiel? No. I spoke to Dean though” he says guessing what happened. Knowing you, you wouldn’t have let Dean figure out what you were so upset about, Cas must’ve told him “He wanted some intel on someone, don’t know, don’t care, and it slipped the fact that you weren’t feeling so well”.

“What else did he say?” you ask him, going back to your task of running your fingers across his chest. In this moment, you couldn’t care less how he found out, he’s here, with you.

He inhales deeply.

“That you had nothing to do with the idea of lying to me...” he feels your body tense underneath him “Which, by the way, I figured a couple of hours after our little discussion”.

“Then why didn’t you say anything?” anger beginning to creep on you, body still stiff.

“Because I thought you didn’t care that much” he admits “I thought it was for the best. To be honest, I was unsure about what to even tell you after the tantrum I threw that day”.

He places a hand under your chin for you to look him in the eyes.

“I am sorry, (Y/N)” the King of Hell apologizes and you relax, hugging him a bit tighter.

“I love you” he’s taken aback by your declaration but after a few seconds he smiles gently.

“I love you too, Pet” with this sentence he brings your chin up and lowers his lips sweetly onto yours. He tastes like honey, citrus and scotch, and all you ever thought he’d taste like.

The kiss is so tender and so slow that you’re able to wander your hand towards his hair and then his cheek.

When the two of you break the kiss, you spend an exaggerated amount of time looking at each other, assimilating the reciprocated love. After a while you start talking about everything and nothing, just like old times, cuddling until you fall asleep, and Crowley, the King of Hell, has the honor to be the one to hold you in his arms.

MASTERLIST

#supernatural #crowley x reader #crowley #crowley supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #castiel x reader

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astraljedi · 3 years

Text

Oblivion | Part I (The Mandalorian)

Summary: The Mandalorian was summoned to Nevarro by Greef Karga for a specific quarry after one of his favorite hunters is presumed dead.

Pairing: The Mandalorian x Reader (she/her)

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Mention of death, lost of memory, violence, blood, abuse, curse words, drugs and some traumatic shit. ALSO SOFT DIN

Word count: 3K+

A/N: I’m new to the Star Wars fandom and to be honest I’m a little scared posting this. Please don’t scream at me if I made any mistakes, I’m still catching up with everything. Also, this is going to be a two part story and It has taken me about three days to fully finish the first part, so I hope you guys enjoy and happy new year’s eve!

The warm volcanic air of Nevarro greeted The Mandalorian as he exited the Razor Crest and headed towards de cantina to meet with Greef Karga. As per usual, everyone's eyes landed on the shiny beskar helmet while The Mandalorian quietly walked by himself with his Amban sniper rifle on his back.

Walking into the busy cantina, Mando moved towards Karga, sitting on the room's far end. "Mando!" Karga greeted him, ushering him to sit down on the opposite seat before Karga.

"What's the job?" Mando asked, cutting straight to the point and skipping the "friendly" welcome. Karga sighed, his hands landing on the beverage on the table.

"Right to the point, okay." Karga began. The Mandalorian watched through his visor at the man before him, who leaned in closer, not wanting anyone to eavesdrop on the private conversation.

"No offense, but you're one of my faithful hunters who knows how to get the job done, no questions asked. But I also have my favorite hunter, similar to you, without the beskar armor." Karga announced, his eyes wandering around the others surrounding them inside the cantina. He didn't want to drive more attention to the table, more than its already been drawn by the beskar armor. "She's strong, straightforward forward, and never fails me. Reasons why I gave her the quarry only her or you could've handled, especially when the rich would pay any amount to end any theft from their fortune. You were away with other pucks, and she was free, so I gave it to her."

"Let me guess, she failed you, and now you need me to do the job?" Mando sighed under his helmet, crossing his arms over his chest.

"We presume she's dead; some members of the Guild found her ship raided and full of blood. It's a loss we all felt deeply, which you don't see a lot in here. She cared for everyone, and it rubbed off on some of us. Her death is on that quarry's life, and I count on you to avenge her death." Karga was resting his back on his seat, waiting for a response from the hunter in front of him.

"Do I need to bring them in alive?"

"No, only bring the body for confirmation." Karga disclosed, sliding the puck over to Mando with the tracking fob. "It's double the amount of what I originally offered. It's going to be a heavy payday for you, Mando."

"She was that good, huh?" The Mandalorian stood up from his seat, hanging the sniper rifle again behind his back. He was a bit curious about the girl and how comparable she was to him.

"You might have seen her before. She used to work here from time to time in the cantina. And now that I think of it, one time you came here to meet with me, and she was serving me the drinks that day." Karga remembered, and so did The Mandalorian. "The bounty's last known location was Maldo Kreis. Good luck, Mando."

On the way back to his ship, Mando was deep in his thoughts. He remembered that day very clearly.

He remembered the girl. How could he forget?

"I don't want to be rude, but I would offer you a drink, but I know you can't take that shiny bucket off." Y/N chuckled, grabbing Karga's empty cup to replace it with a new one full of spotchka. She had watched him arrive earlier into the cantina; her older brother used to talk about The Mandalorians when they were children. She had never seen one in person before. She watched him glide through the people in the cantina towards Karga, how only a few dared to look at the man in the beskar, and others had their eyes on the floor. Too scared to even look at the feared hunter.

Karga chuckled at her comment before taking a sip of his new drink. Mando tilted his helmet at her in curiosity. She wasn't intimidated by him and made a light joke about his armor.

When The Mandalorian didn't answer, she sighed and looked away from the tinted T shaped visor. Y/N walked away with Karga's previous empty cup and headed towards another table to serve them with her funny jokes instead, where others will appreciate them.

Thankful for the helmet, he heard Karga tell him about the previous bounty Mando had captured, how he never disappoints in getting the job done. "You might give my favorite hunter a run for her credits." Karga joked, emptying his second drink of the day. But The Mandalorian's eyes followed the girl. She was behind the bar now, laughing with her other customers as she leaned herself on the counter. Her mid-length dark hair bounced around every time her shoulders moved from her laughing and her tiny figure moving around the back of the spacious bar, gliding through without a hassle. "Y/N! Get your pretty face over here with another refill, sweet face." Mando's eyes shifted to the very drunk customer far away from the bar where Y/N stood.

She laughed at the drunken state he was, filling up his cup with some water instead, cutting him off from his usual drink. "That's enough for the evening, Gyan. You have a family to get to, remember?" Her sweet voice passed right him, the sweet scent from her hair hitting him with a whiff.

Y/N, now the girl who he watched over had a name.

Many people were intimidated by the beskar armor, but she didn't even flinch from making a joke about it. Even after he didn't answer her, she didn't shake in fear, and she walked away disappointed. Was she expecting something else? The Mandalorians came across as cold and people of not many words. She knew that, but deep down, she didn't believe it entirely from all the stories others would tell about them and their creed.

Mando landed on the ice planet two days ago.

Tracking down the bounty was surprisingly too easy, Mando thought. The tracking fob immediately started going crazy on the first day while he hunted around the planet. Once he found him, he watched his every move.

Not only did he want to assure a good plan, but he also wanted to figure out how the girl got herself killed for a simple quarry that didn't even bother hiding.

Maz was wanted for theft, and he owned a lot of people's credits. The usual. Maz had the same routine strangely; he visited the markets early, creating chaos with innocent villagers, and then spent the rest of the day in a cantina with possibly other bounty's.

One of the things Mando noticed first was that Maz wasn't ever alone. He always had to be surrounded by people to praise him and make sure he felt he had the power. Maz still had six guards with him. Four of them guarded the outside. While two were by the back of the cantina, the others guarded the front door. And that left the Maz and two other bodies with him inside.

Mando could quickly grab the guards in the back successfully and then attack the ones in the front before dragging them with the rest of the bodies behind the cantina. He liked those odds.

Part of his evening entourage, he brought one woman with a metal neck collar hooked on to a chain for him to drag her around like some pet. The woman had barely any clothing on for the shivering weather, and it was torture and cruel.

They had her wearing a tiny leather top that did nothing to hide the purple bruises on her neck and shoulders. Mando also noticed marks that could only be caused by a whip on her exposed back. She also wore a torn skirt that didn't cover much of her barely functioning legs. But Mando never saw her face. They always dragged her around with a bag over her head.

The Mandalorian prepared for his attack on the third day. As planned, he managed to seize the men on the back of the cantina without any problems. And then he followed with the other two guards by the front door. Maybe the guards were for appearances because they went down quickly and quietly, or The Mandalorian was that good. Mando swiftly dragged both bodies towards the back and huddled all four of them in a pile against the bar's walls.

The cantina's door unlatched and revealed The Mandalorian standing under the frame while the snow flew into the cantina. Immediately, all eyes were on Mando as his eyes scanned the place, looking for Maz. The air in the cantina stiffened at The Mandalorian's presence. Every single pair of eyes followed him while he proceeded to take a seat by the bar, a safe distance to the corner of the room where he spotted Maz with the girl sitting down on his lap miserably.

"Two chowders to go," Mando ordered, trying to blend in as he wasn't there for a quarry. He passed some credits to the bartender while his eyes caught a glimpse of the girl's face when she moved uncomfortably on Maz's lap.

"Y/N." Mando thought to himself, how could he forget her? Her hair was longer, and she looked slimmer, probably caused by the lack of meals Maz didn't give to her. Mando's blood boiled as he watched the dirty man's hands caressing Y/N's bruised and sensitive skin while he chatted away with another person sat on the table as well.

Y/N dozed off, her head feeling heavy, and her exhausted body was about to give out on her. She couldn't even remember how she got there and what they gave her to tame her down. Everything was a blur.

If she could, she would've blown up the whole bar into ashes. Make every living being that touched, drugged, and tossed her around to burn into oblivion.

Mando had a plan to grab Maz, but it flew out the window once he noticed who the girl was. The seat that Maz's "friend" occupied was now free, and while "waiting" for his chowder, he slipped into the empty chair.

He regretted his change of plan the moment his eyes landed on the poor girl. The open wounds that would heal into scars horrified him. It angered him the most. Mando was going to make Maz pay for every mark he left on her body. "A Mandalorian? Thought those only existed in stories." Maz tried to hide his widened eyes from the hunter. Mando smirked under his helmet, sensing the fear in Maz's eyes.

Mando's hand rested on top of his blaster that rested on his side. Tilting his helmet, he studied and watched Maz, and he knew the guy would never be the criminal to carry a blaster. He needs a pack of guards because he didn't even know how to handle a blaster by himself. He was all about appearances and less about his fighting skills. "And now they are going to exist in your worst nightmares."

The first shot from Mando's blaster went off and hit the closest guard to Maz in his chest. The first guard's body fell to the floor with a loud thud while others either stared at the fight that was about to break down, and some decided to leave the bar. Before it, all got a little too messy for their liking.

Maz shot up from his seat, not caring that Y/N had fallen to the floor. He gripped on the metal chain tied to her neck collar and dragged her up to her feet as he made a run for the door. Mando had purposely let Maz get a head start; he knew he couldn't get too far with Y/N's weakened state.

The final guard, who was the furthest, made a run towards the hunter, but Mando was quick to his feet and grabbed one of the knives on the table and flew it across the bar for it to land on the guard's shoulder. Stomping his way towards the guard, he hovered over his unbearable body and sent his final shot from his blaster to his chest.

The bartender rose from behind the bar, where he had found shelter from the fight. He watched as the hunter exited the cantina to catch up to Maz, who hadn't gotten very far as Mando had anticipated.

One thing The Mandalorian didn't expect was seeing Maz holding a blaster to Y/N's temple. "God, she can't even lean on him for support from the pain she's in." Mando thought to himself, his grip tightening on the snipper he pulled out from his back. He aimed it at Maz, taking slow steps towards his quarry.

"Give up, Maz. We both know you don't stand a chance." Y/N heard Mando's filtered voice from afar. She was thrown around by Maz for a long time, that the little hope she had of being rescued from the torture had faded every time the sun left the horizon and left her in complete darkness.

Maz had the safety on his blaster. What an idiot.

Mando was about to shot at Maz's shoulder when suddenly, from the corner of his eyes, he watched Y/N slip out a blade from the waistband of her skirt. She must have gotten it after she fell from the first guard laid on the floor after Mando shot him. Maz didn't even know what was coming for him.

Y/N used the little energy she had and pushed the knife into Maz's abdomen, causing him to force her out of his grip and fall on to his knees from the sudden pain. He shrieked in pain while holding the knife still pressed into his body in shock. "He did tell you that you didn't have a chance." Y/N coughed only a few feet away from him, looking straight at Maz as the blood-stained the pale snow underneath him.

"Should've given you a painful death the night we took you." Maz groaned, pulling the knife out of his stomach. "You were worth-" Maz's words caught short, Mando shutting him up with a shot to his chest. Maz's eyes rolled back, and he fell onto his back on the snowy ground.

Tears spilled out of Y/N's eyes. She never thought she was going to make it out alive at all. "Hey, we need to get you out of this weather." Mando knelt to her level on the floor, wrapping his cape around her shoulders to bring in a little bit of warmth to her body. She nodded in response, but before she could force herself to stand up, he already had her in his arms pressed into his chest.

Instead of going to his ship, he preferred getting those chowders he had ordered earlier for her to eat before the flight back to Nevarro. "You might want to eat first." His voice was soft, caring for the petite hunter before him.

Food. Y/N hadn't had a warm meal in such a long time that she devoured the first bowl of chowder too quickly for her liking. Mando sat silently across her, watching her finish up the first bowl in minutes. "Want the other one?" Mando asked, sliding the second bowl towards her.

"Please, I'm starving." It was good that she was eating. The drug that made her doze off was wearing off quicker thanks to the food. The other great news was that Mando had managed to break off the metal collar from her neck. She was free to walk and eat without the cold metal pushing up against her neck. "Thanks again for everything." She went from living a nightmare to finding some peace. Maybe it won't last that much longer, but she enjoyed it a little bit. She enjoyed the hot meal.

After she finished the second bowl, Mando brought the empty dishes to the bar counter a few feet away from the table where he previously sat with her. He tried passing the bartender some extra credits for the mess he caused earlier, but the bartender refused to take the credits. He was merely glad that Maz was gone from his cantina.

Mando nodded as a thank you towards the bartender when he gave them extra food for the flight. "She suffered a lot in the hands of those criminals. I'm glad she's safe now." The bartender explained to the hunter as they both watched her from afar snuggled up into Mando's cape.

After Y/N and The Mandalorian said their final goodbyes to the cantina's owner, he pressed her close for her to lean on him as they walked to her rhythm towards his ship with Mando dragging Maz's body behind him with the same chain Maz had tied up to Y/N neck collar. Y/N was grateful for the food, but she was even more when Mando's ship greeted her with its warmth. "I have never been this excited to see a Razor Crest before." She chuckled, her cheeks gaining a slight red tint.

Mando moved around the ship, trying to gather up a couple of blankets he had stored away. "I don't have a change of clothing, but I did grab these for you."

Y/N mumbled a thank you to Mando and pulled off his cape from her shoulders to replace them with a slightly thicker material to keep her even warmer. "I suggest you rest for a while if you can." He suggested, sitting on the pilot seat and getting the ship ready for departure. Y/N made herself more than comfortable on the chair behind him by the right side of the cockpit.

Y/N relaxed her shoulders as she let the soft material of the chair rest snug to her body. "Thanks again for rescuing me, metalhead." She mumbled, sleep consuming her quickly.

Mando snorted under his helmet. Even after going through what she did, she managed to make fun of him. He watched her over his shoulder, her chest rising up and down while she faded into her deep sleep. He pulled himself away from staring and sent the Razor Crest into hyperspace after placing the coordinates to Nevarro.

"You don't need me to rescue you. You saved yourself out there." Mando whispered, pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear.

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