#-monsters doing the same job for so long that there’s nothing left. She’s bored and depressed and wants something new but every time smth -

[nami-moittli]

Thinking about the Ortho’s in my Digitwst AU… Just two kids who have to deal with so much for so long…

[cntarella]

Okay, so more cogent thoughts on Nosferatu (2024):

It was a very middling movie in everything except the costuming, set design, and art direction — which were top notch. I also give it props for the great lighting, i.e. being one of the few movies set mostly in the night where you can actually see what's going on. Eggers and Blaschke really used light and shadow extremely well in a few scenes, thinking here in particular of that one shot of Ellen (i.e. Lily Rose Depp) on the bed with the side profile of her shadow on the pillow and that ending shot of Von Franz (i.e. Willem Dafoe) illuminated in the mirror that were genuinely such beautiful, artistic frames. Visually, great movie. But visuals can't make up for a script and a cast that were stilted as all hell.

First of all, the screenplay itself was trying way too hard. No one spoke in a particularly convincing way — everything was long monologues, diatribes really, that were meant to be ominous and add to the gothic atmosphere. But it was pure narration, nothing left to the actual interpretation of the other storytelling elements to convey horror. Instead of letting the atmosphere carry the mood, it relied so much on telling us "btw this is the horrifying thing happening, this is why it is horrifying" and genuinely felt like they didn't think people would understand...what was essentially a very basic story. Where tf is the dude that wrote The Lighthouse??? This cannot be the same man.

Second, the acting. Or the lack of acting!!! At least on the part of Lily Rose Depp. This woman cannot act, I'm sorry. The people who praise her for this role, I'm asking: did we see the same movie? This woman cannot modulate her voice beyond two slightly differentiated tones, and same goes for her facial expressions. Dead delivery for a floundering script, and considering she was most of the movie, made for an incredibly boring 2 hours. I will say, she did some great body acting but that's probably the only thing she did with any sort of panache. The rest felt too committed to showing her off in the sexiest waif girl light that it could, rather than actually making use of her as an actress.

She and her castmates had no chemistry either, especially between her and Nicholas Hoult and Bill Skarsgard. I'm supposed to believe this woman's husband would traverse the snowy mountains of Transylvania with nothing but a coat and a horse to get back to her after THE most sexless kisses??? I'm supposed to believe that Nosferatu was enticed by her "passion" and her dead-eyed impression of romance???

Speaking of sex scenes, there were a few in the movie that were just so bad. Lily Rose Depp making the same pornhub "uh uh uh" moans during ALL of these scenes, with little change in delivery or intonation. And I do mean "uh uh uh," it was embarrassingly bad and not just because the sex itself was badly simulated by her partners.

And then there's Nosferatu himself. What a disappointment. I wanted something grotesque, I wanted something fun. We kept getting teased about Bill Skarsgard's "horrific transformation" but like. It was a bald cap and a coat. It was a prosthetic nose. The most grotesque thing about him was being...emaciated? Slightly deformed? Kinda middle aged looking? I don't know that we saw enough of him to really be able to judge his acting on this particular film, but imo he did a better job as Pennywise than in this role. It was just the most mid monster one could potentially want to fuck, unbelievably mid.

The "gore" people kept warning about was very very light, very standard for a horror movie and not even the most grotesque in recent memory (First Omen still had this beat by a long long long shot in terms of actual grotesquerie). Some frontal nudity that was nothing to write home about. But at least there were 2,000 rats. At least we had that.

2.5/5 stars

[ramblinganthropologist]

N7 24 22 - Krogans

Summary: Urdnot Wrex has a special mission for Alistair Shepard. He needs backup - so he brings in his sister. Krogans love Bo Peep Shepard after all.

---

He hadn't expected to be back on Tuchanka so soon, but... well, things worked out that way.

"Shepard, you made it."

For once, Wrex was talking to him and not Bo. It wasn't a slight - Alistair had long since come to understand that Urdnot Wrex got along better with his sister than him. It made sense - krogans liked to headbutt, Bo liked to headbutt. She had gotten a name for wrestling krogans on Omega between 2183 and 2185 too, so she was something of a local celebrity. It was no big surprise that they would prefer his hard hitting, fast shooting sister over him. When it came down to it, he was a boy scout and he bored them.

Fine by him; as long as they were ok on Tuchanka, they could call him boring all they wanted.

"Nice to see you, Wrex." He glanced around. "How are things settling in?"

The krogan nodded at him. "Fine. No real difference yet but believe there's plenty of attempts. Time will tell."

He gestured to the side. "And thanks. Eve said you would help."

Yeah; him and Eve had become friends since she had been on the Normandy with Mordin. He wouldn't say they were friends, per se, but he wore the crystal she had given him around his neck with his dog tags. There had definitely been a connection there, and he was glad she was doing well.

Obviously, she was busy now, but maybe when everything was done he could go see her.

"Not a problem, Wrex. Let me go just get Bo and we'll head over."

The krogan smirked a little. "Shepard's here?"

"I'm bringing her as backup on this one." He chuckled. "You can understand why."

"You always were to bring the best for the job."

He was. Which is why Alistair left the leader of the krogan behind as he headed to where his sister was waiting for him. Well, waiting was being a bit mild. It was more like the Angry Pink Monster was getting a meeting with her beloved fans. She was surrounded by krogans, some of them with posters or vids of her fights on Omega. At least she had remembered to bring a pen this time, judging by the fact her fans were leaving happy.

She spotted him as he approached. "Finished up with Wrex?"

"Yep, just let me know when you finish up the fan meeting." He checked his omni-tool, reading over Wrex's message. It seemed simple enough, but nothing with the krogan was ever easy. It at least gave him something to do while he waited for Bo to finish signing merch for her fans.

He had to wonder if any of the three who had put in breeding requests for her were among them. Maybe they were hoping to ask her on a date? If they were, they were sorely mistaken; she preferred the ladies. Besides, if she had been straight, she would've gone straight for Wrex himself.

 She had taste after all.

The mob died down after a few more moments, and Bo sighed in relief as she capped her pen and stored it wherever she was keeping it. Soon, she joined him and the two took off in the direction of his mission marker. It was on the other side of the base, but it wasn't a long walk. Honestly, he needed a chance to stretch his legs after being in space for so long.

"I swear you set me up for that, they're not normally that bad." Bo shot him a look as they walked. He whistled out an innocent note, hooking his arms behind his head. "Alistair Michael Shepard, I swear-"

Oh, middle name. Now he was in trouble.

"Don't worry, I didn't say anything. They must've just seen the Normandy and put the pieces together that you would probably be touching down." He flashed her a grin. "Scout's honor on that one."

It didn't soften her look in the slightest, but he hadn't expected it to do anything. Instead, it gave him the chance to look around. Things certainly looked the same on Tuchanka since the genophage cure had been dispersed. Part of him wasn't sure what he had expected honestly; even if the krogan had been nonstop fucking, it wasn't like they just immediately made babies. There was still a gestation period - maybe by next year there would be a difference if they all managed to survive.

Hopefully, Wrex would send him baby pictures of his kids if they all lived. He had never seen a newborn krogan before, and no doubt they were absolutely adorable little toads.

"Whatever." Bo rolled her eyes. "Anyway, what's this mission you just had to have me on? Did the mother of all thresher maws fuck something up when she was killing that Reaper?"

Alistair shook his head as they entered the building. There was a krogan standing by the door, and they stiffened as he approached. It was only natural, considering what he was watching over.

"No humans past this point."

He held up his omni-tool to display the message. "Urdnot Wrex has given us express permission to pass."

The guard squinted his eyes as he read the message over. While he did, Alistair tried to listen in. The walls were too thick for that, however, so he didn't get anything out of it other than a vague sense of curiosity. At least it kept him occupied while his credentials were checked.

"Looks legit." He stepped to the side. "Don't do anything stupid, Shepard."

He offered the guard a smile as they passed. "Wouldn't dream of it."

They were soon in a hallway leading to a door. Their footsteps echoed down as they walked, creating a strange acoustic that scratched an itch in his brain. All the while, Bo fidgeted next to him, starting to bridge the area between bored and annoyed. It wasn't quite her danger zone, but she was running short on patience.

"Alright, are you going to tell me why I'm here yet or what?"

"You'll see." He approached the door. "I needed you for backup."

He then opened the door and stepped through. Immediately, there was a wall of sound that nearly knocked him into Bo. Once he adjusted, then he got the full scope of the mission. It was a large room, filled with overturned furniture that had seen better days. There was paint smeared on the walls, and dents from heads going into it, but there was no blood. More importantly, the focus of his mission was staring up at them with wide eyes, waiting to figure out what was going on.

"Who are you?"

As it turned out, children had squeaky voices regardless of the species. That was no different for krogan. If he had to guess, the small group of five assembled in front of them were between the ages of 6 and 8. They didn't have the telltale battle marks, and their scales reminded him of Grunt when he had been fresh from the tank. The smallest came up to his waist, while the biggest was a half head taller. All of them had the same confused, eager look on their faces.

Bo shot him a look as he closed the door. "You have got to be kidding me."

"Wrex wanted me to check their vitals and see if they were affected by the cure." He smiled at her. "And so I brought you along to distract them from medical procedures."

He then turned to the assembled children. "Hi, kids. My name's Al, and this is my sister Bo. We're here to hang out with you guys today."

One of the children - the record said his name was Vorak, age 7 - pointed an adorably chubby finger in Bo's direction. "It's the Angry Pink Monster!"

And then, the kids were on Bo, all wide eyes and high pitched voices. Alistair chuckled as he went off to the side in order to set up his equipment for the medical checks. Truly, her fame among the krogan was why he had brought her along. Kids tended to hate medical checkups regardless of their species, so needed something to counteract that. If their beloved Angry Pink Monster was enough to distract them from the displeasure, then things would be just fine.

"I heard you fought Drank the Crusher at Omega!" A squeaky voiced krogan by the name of Khurd -age 6-  was practically bouncing. "You smashed him into the stands and sent three people to the hospital!"

Bo nodded as she settled in to a nearby chair, the krogan... lings? gathering around her. "He bounced like a super ball. How did you see that one, though?"

"Krayas showed us the vids if we promised to clean up one day!" A pause, then, "He's the guard at the front door. He said if we don't try to escape for a week, we'll get to watch another one."

Talk about one hell of a motivational factor - he had to hand it to Krayas for figuring out how to motivate the little ones. Alistair filed that one away as he finished setting things up, checking his omni-tool to make sure everything was running properly. He then opened a new file.

"Vorak? Could you come over here please?"

Unsurprisingly, his patient didn't want to leave Bo's side. Given he was one of the bigger children, he knew he didn't have the strength to get him over there. Luckily for him, he wasn't alone. His sister nudged the little krogan in his direction, much to his displeasure as he groaned.

"I don't wanna see him, he's boring!"

Bo shook her head. "It'll be quick. Wrex wants to make sure you little terrors grow up big and strong so you can shoot straight. If you don't get your medical checks, you wind up like Al and have to use mods to shoot."

Judging by the gasp of horror that filled the room, it had the needed effect. Vorak was soon all but running over to his side, standing ramrod straight with pinprick pupils. Alistair had to resist the urge to chuckle as he got his scanner ready, marking down his patient's name.

"Thank you for being so cooperative. Now, I'm just going to check your height and weight against last year's records..."

---

Forty minutes later, and he had gotten through all the children. Their records were now safely stored on his omni-tool for handing over to Wrex once they were finished. Apart from some grumbling, they had been pretty cooperative with the process, better than he would've expected honestly.

Grunt hadn't been nearly as good when Dr. Chakwas checked him on the Normandy after he had come out of the tank. Maybe he needed to learn patience from his age group.

"Alright, so I promised you guys I'd tell you about my last match. Well, it was me verses Rekmar Hinak for the title. Hinak the Headsplitter was pretty cocky off his last win, so he thought he could take me..."

Bo's voice carried over the quiet room as Alistair packed up his equipment. He knew the match she was speaking of well - he had been there after all. Hinak the Headsplitter's fanbase had been particularly rowdy that night, and the spotlights glinted off the blood still glistening in the arena. All around him, krogan cheered and jeered as the opponents faced down in the ring.

"Hinak thought he could take me because he had gotten a hit in with the thresher maw during his ritual." Bo scoffed. "So he tries to get me with a frontal attack. Problem is, he telegraphs his moves like he's a complete newbie. I bet you guys could've taken him on if you wanted to do it."

Khurd's eyes were wide. "Did he try to split your head?"

"Of course he did, that's his specialty." Bo's voice dropped. "But the thing is, he's weak on his left side. You always gotta train on both sides so they don't catch you on the bad one, got it?"

A squeaky chorus of 'got it!' rang out through the room. Alistair chuckled softly as he righted overturned furniture throughout the room. Kid-krogan sized furniture was still big enough for him to sit in, but it wouldn't be the most comfortable choice. He was a little disappointed it wasn't brightly colored, but maybe they didn't have the same requirements as humans for eye development. Honestly, he was a little unsure when it came to little krogan. Maybe later he could ask Wrex about it...

"Anyway, he tries to ram me." Bo smacked her fist into her palm. "But I caught him on his bad side and threw him into the wall. He bounced like a ping pong ball. You should've seen the crack he left, it looked like what happens after an earthquake."

Another krogan - this one was named Danak with a twin named Canak sitting next to him - practically jumped up at her words. "And then what?"

"And then he tried to kick my feet out from under me when he's on his side." Bo grumbled. "But his leg didn't quite make it so I got out of the way. He gets back on his feet, crowd's calling for his blood. I can see what he's planning on doing next because like I said, he telegraphs his moves."

Canak's squeaky voice filled the room. "What's telegraph mean, Bo?"

"Basically you can see him coming a mile away. When you get older, always try to keep a little variety in your moves. Keeps your opponent guessing and you're not predictable." Bo nodded. "Maybe that would've saved him, but he wasn't exactly the smartest guy around."

No, he wasn't. Alistair remembered thinking the same thing as Bo from when he was in the stands. The good part was coming, however - she was just about to get into using her biotics to hammer Hinak into the next solar system. It had been brutal, even from where he was sitting.

"Anyway, he gets up close and we're grappling in the center. Crowd's screaming for his head, my head, they couldn't decide if they hated him or me more." Bo smirked. "And since he got handsy, I figured I could let loose. I power up in the hand he's got me with and I shove him into the wall."

The kids all let out gasps of excitement, but it was then that Alistair noticed there was only four sitting in front of his sister. Vorak, Khurd, Danak and Canak were all accounted for, but he didn't see the youngest of the group. Little Cosk  - just turned 6- wasn't sitting with his friends, drinking in the tale.

Instead... he was picking up toys.

Alistair cocked his eyebrow as he approached, stooping down to pick up a block. "Don't you want to listen to the story too?"

Cosk shook his head as he gathered up blocks in his little arms. "Vorak is stinky and Canak likes to wipe his boogers on you after he picks his nose. I can hear from here just fine."

"Can't blame you there, I wouldn't like boogers wiped on me either." Alistair followed him over to the box the toys were stored in, placing the blocks inside. On the other side of the room, Bo was just about to headbutt Hirak into submission. "You did a good job with your check in, by the way. You grew a couple inches from last year."

The little krogan's chest puffed slightly as he neatened the blocks. "Danak says I'm too small, but if I grew that means he's wrong, right?"

Alistair nodded in response. "From what I studied on krogan development before I got here, you're doing just fine. Besides, I'm small for my age and I do just fine."

No doubt the other krogan children would have given him the stink eye for saying that - even at their ages, they weren't impressed by barriers and tech expertise. But little Cosk nodded along as he went back for more blocks, taking his words as gospel. Suddenly, he was pretty sure he had a favorite kid.

"And then BAM. He goes down so hard his armor cracks!"

Bo's voice, amplified by the cheers of her child audience, filled the room. Alistair watched as his charge stiffened, little hands going to where his ears should be. Once the noise quieted down, he slowly pulled his hands away. Then he went back to finding blocks to pick up and tidy.

He made his way over to the little krogan, stooping down to help him. "Don't like loud noises, huh?"

"They say I'm a big baby." Cosk sounded like he was sulking. "But I can't help it. It makes my head go all funny."

Alistair nodded. "No, I understand. I don't like a lot of noise either. When I was your age, I avoided being around kids my own age a lot too."

It was why he had learned to read so fast - other kids were loud and made his head hurt. Now that he was older, he understood his noise sensitivity was due in part to how his biotics affected his brain. But before then, it had just been one of the many things that set him apart from other kids his age.

"I'm not a bad krogan..." He trailed off. "When I'm big, I'm gonna be a battlemaster one day. Urdnot Wrex says I'm special."

And then he held out his free hand. At first the block sitting there did nothing, but after a few seconds it wobbled and slowly rose into the air. The space hummed with energy, and Alistair's nose tickled with the familiar scent he had no name for. It was one all biotics knew, but never named.

Apparently, the noise sensitivity might just be a biotic thing.

"That's really impressive, Cosk. You have great control over your biotics."

The little krogan brightened, eyes sparkling. "Really?"

"Really. It takes a lot of focus to keep things steady like that. You're going to be a real pro when you're older."

That was if he got the chance to be older. A weight settled into Alistair's stomach as he glanced around the room, taking in Cosk and his age group. There was no guarantee any of them were going to grow up or even reach their next birthday if the Reapers got their way. All their work to cure the genophage, and it might just amount to nothing.

It left him cold just thinking about it.

"Al?" A little hand tugged at his shirt, bringing him back to reality. "Do you need a juice box? They keep them in here for me. I get hy...hypo..."

He smiled. "Your blood sugar goes low sometimes when you use your biotics?"

"Yeah, that!" Cosk nodded his head, holding out his little hand. "They're over here!"

Alistair allowed himself to be led back to the center of the room, where Bo's story was just wrapping up. The assembled krogan were starting to get rowdy again, no doubt needing to work off their excited energy with play. No doubt by the end of it, the work they had done to right the room would be left in ruins.

Oh well. He could pick it up later. He was being offered a juice box by a baby biotic. That was more precious than the medal of honor if you asked him.

---

"Bye, Bo!"

"Remember, keep your opponent guessing!"

An hour later, the assembled krogan children were waving them goodbye as they left to return to the Normandy. Bo had told them all a number of tales of her wrestling days, even giving them an abridged version of their fight with the thresher maw. Now an entire generation of krogan was her fanbase - she was going to have to do a reunion tour by the time they were old enough to purchase tickets.

"Bye, Al!"

Cosk's little voice made him turn his head. The little biotic was waving too, a juice box in hand from when his blood sugar had suddenly dropped. Al smiled and waved back, glad to see he was taking his health seriously. If he kept that head on his shoulders by the time he was an adult, he might just be a battlemaster after all.

Bo snickered as they left the children behind, nudging him in the side. "I see I'm not the only one with a fanboy."

"He's a sweet kid, they all are." He paused. "Well, as sweet as krogan kids get."

Compared to human children, that was about as sweet as the citric acid in his pixie stick mix. But it was all relative - they were good kids, if a little chaotic. With any luck, once the galaxy was saved they would all grow up into decent adults who would go off and help make the krogan a better people. 

It was all he could hope for in that moment.

"I promised I'd give them updates if I fight anything cool." She nudged him again. "Which means-"

Alistair chuckled. "I know, I'll email their caretaker about it. I can't keep your fans waiting, now can I?"

"You're the best press secretary a girl could ask for." They headed towards the heart of the base. "Are you emailing Wrex the records or do you gotta give them to him directly?"

He was already on his omni-tool as she spoke. "I'm emailing them now. He said he would be busy by the time we finished, so I didn't expect to see him again. Hopefully, he's happy with the results. I did my best with a quick study of krogan developmental phases on the way over, but he'll have someone who can interpret the data later."

The Normandy gleamed in the distance, calling them back to space as he sent the results off to the planet's leader. All the while, he thought back on the children. If they got this right, and the galaxy kept spinning, those kids would grow up to be a hope for their people. What would they become, and what would it mean for their people?

"Your kid wants to be a battlemaster I heard." There was a note of excitement in Bo's voice. "I hope to see him tearing it up one day."

Alistair nodded. "He'll be a strong contender if he keeps his focus in check through puberty."

"I'm gonna have to watch him gunning for my title. Hell, any of them might be coming for me once their humps get big." She cracked her knuckles, then her neck. "Can't wait for some fresh blood in the ring."

It was probably best he left off she'd essentially be fighting teenagers; that would spoil the fun. But still, there was hope in Alistair's chest as he approached the Normandy in order to leave Tuchanka behind. Off in the distance, far beyond the settlement, rose the Shroud. It still glowed, even after the cure had been dispersed.

"Al? Do you need more juice or something?"

Bo's voice snapped him back in reality, causing him to shake his head. "No, I'm fine. I guess they just wore me out is all. Come on, let's get going. It's a long ride back to the Citadel."

And so he climbed into the Normandy's airlock, hearing the familiar tones that the CO and XO were back and their cover stood relieved. Soon, they were leaving the planet behind, blasting off into space with the hope of finding more help against the Reapers. As he watched Tuchanka disappear from view, Alistair could only hope there would still be a planet there when everything was over.

All he could do was keep going and hope it made a difference. That was enough for the moment.

[ohh-wildflowers]

alrighty, so i was 9 think. the school day was ending, i even remember the sun going down. i was alone with my teacher until a odd woman id never seen before came in. she came in with whatever permission to take me, not sure in what medium, papers/documents? maybe. i cried when we left, so was my teacher. then i was in her car in the back, leaning a bit, really tired and bored. it was a drive all the way up to maine.

the big house was beautiful and near the water, but thats about where the beauty ended. this woman used to be my moms partner, though they seperated a short time after my grabdmother passed, i never met my grandparents either. so this woman is Paula, and she had a partner of her own at the house, dont remember her name but she slim and tall. always yelled at me,

that slim woman is the reason i came back to my mother petrified of showers and water in my face

i was showering just fine on my own (i think maybe) but she seemed like she had a horrible, anoyying job to do. stuck my face direct into the shower. i wasnt okay but she tried and i guess succeded in having me stay like that, like as if for my own. i flaided and scratched at her, but she threatend putting a bar of soup in my mouth if i didnt stop.

that was also the same time i slipped and fell tummy first on the side of the bathtub. id never gotten the wind knocked out of me before, so i thought i was dying.

and my siblings lived in the same house.

thatcher was my brother, he was nice i think, autistic like myself to, but somewhere on a different spectrum. didnt exactly seem interestd in anything, but content. didnt really talk.

my sister……..hunter. hunter hated my guts the second i came. and still did by the end, horribly so. she hated me because of paula, paula lied to her from the start, making her think my mom, her actual mom, didnt want her. i tried looking up to her, like a example, but she always was embarred to be around me, pushing me back into a feeling i didnt get at the time, just broke my heart, i was aware siblings loved eachother so i really blamed myself around her, and i was isolated even further. i stopped trying to please her a bit later, i didnt want to try anymore.

my room was the closet, my bed was a sort of sitting up camper bed. it was really narrow, but….i have to admit, i loved that one small window inside my room, i really liked just sitting there looking at the sky, and wishing to go home.

i was also forced to eat many foods at any quanity, it was vile, distgusting.

i was always yelled at, because i couldnt seem to do a single thing right, the whole year, i was isolated and taught i was a problem.

thats why i say sorry too much. its also the reason i flinch when mom even tries to hug me, how i get so frighted by any loud speaking because im in trouble,

i was used as a tool to hurt my own mother by that woman. i was used as a weapon.

used as a weapon on my own mom

its the main reason i wish to kill myself everyday.

i do not beleive in kind words and comments. i am a monster.

i am a monster

my mom tried everything in the book back then to come get me, nothing worked for a entire year. near the end of the year, my moms new-ish girlfriend was close to her grandfather. her grandfather was in the mafia.

that man, he gifted my mom enough money to come get me, without hesiation. i…..i owe that man. he's long sinced passed, and i even never met him either. but i owe him.

i came back home not as a child

but as a monster. and thats how its always been

[aikoiya]

What if Papyrus was the one that befriended Toriel through the Ruins’ Door, instead of his comedic brother? 🥧🫖🍝

*Personally, I think Toriel forming a friendship with Papyrus would be stronger, healthier and more honest, then her canon ‘friendship’ with his brother.

*The only things that Toriel has with Papyrus’ brother was that they told knock-knock jokes and puns to each other, not bothering to talk about themselves or give out their names (I know why Toriel couldn’t give out hers, but she could’ve at least given her ‘door buddy’ a fake name) and a broken promise to protect a child that Toriel never even learns that got broken.

*Their friendship is literally based on secrets and lies!

*If she knew about his broken promise and what he said to Frisk, she would probably toss him straight into a volcano!

*Toriel isn’t perfect, but she deserves a better BFF then him…

~~~

*Anyway like I said, a ‘Toriel and Papyrus’ friendship would be better!

*Papyrus also isn’t perfect, but he’s more honest and kinder then his brother!

*He also has more in common with Toriel: they both love helping others, they both love to cook, they are both hard workers, they both have a soft spot for children, they are both not racist (at least not as racist as a certain Royal Guard Captain) and Papyrus actually loves puns (he simply pretends he doesn’t; he actually does puns sometimes)…

*But most important of all, he has moral standards similar to Toriel’s; to not kill others and show mercy… He practices what Toriel preaches!

*Papyrus also did more to help/protect Frisk, then his brother ever did, and he didn’t even promise anyone to protect Frisk!

~~~

*In this world, Papyrus’ brother never meets Toriel through the door: either the brother entered a despair coma and became another amalgamate thanks to a certain scientist, or he was killed by Flowey who never reset before Frisk arrived (and when Frisk arrived, the brother’s death became irreversible)…

*Papyrus still misses his brother, so he tells knock-knock jokes to cheer himself up… which leads to him meeting Toriel and sharing jokes with her.

*When Toriel had to leave to create her dinner, Papyrus gives out his name as ‘THE GREAT PAPYRUS’ and then asks for her name, which she says is ‘Tori��.

*Almost every day, Papyrus would return to the door to talk about his day and his interests/hobbies, while Toriel did the same.

*Papyrus would talk about his love of cooking, especially spaghetti, so Toriel gives him all types of pasta recipes as well as her favorite pie recipe.

*Papyrus would also talk about his dreams about entering the Royal Guard, and that he has to capture a human in order for his dream to come true… which makes Toriel quite uncomfortable, so she tells Papyrus some stories of the human and monster kingdoms leaving in peace, a long time ago back on the surface world.

*Papyrus later confesses to Toriel that he thinks that Undyne will probably never let him into the Royal Guard, because she views him as an innocent child and doesn’t take him seriously… that’s why he wanted to capture a human so desperately, it’s the only way Undyne will let him join the Guard, even if he isn’t truly %100 comfortable with capturing and hurting someone… Toriel simply says: “If your dream job involves hurting someone innocent, then maybe you find a different dream job… Like cooking, perhaps? That’s another way to get people to like you!”

*One day, Papyrus asks Toriel why she stays inside the ruins: ‘ISN’T IT BORING AND LONELY IN THERE?”… Toriel explains that she’s stays inside, because she’s completely against the second war and wants NOTHING to do with it.

*Papyrus is confused, so Toriel explains to Papyrus the story of how King Asgore lost both of his children (one of them being a human child that died of sickness) and how King Asgore blamed all of humanity over what a small village of them did to his monster child, thus declaring a second war against humanity while the Queen had left the hate-filled Kingdom in despair over losing her children to death as well as her husband to his own rage.

*Papyrus had tears in his eye sockets by the time the story is over and spoke softly to Toriel for the first time…

*Papyrus: “H-HOW… How do you know about this story?”

Tori: “…I was there.”

Papyrus: “…Do you know what happened to the Queen?… Is she in the Ruins with you?”

Tori: “…Do you promise not to tell anyone?”

Papyrus: “Of course!”

Tori: “…Yes, she is with me.”

Papyrus: “Can you tell her that I’m sorry about what happened to her family?”

Tori: “…I will… Thank you, Papyrus.”

*After hearing Tori’s stories of the past, Papyrus isn’t sure that he wants to be in the Royal Guard anymore.

*Eventually, Toriel asks Papyrus to make the promise to watch over and protect any human that leaves the Ruins.

*Papyrus is hesitant but agrees, saying he’ll try his best.

*In canon, Papyrus is terrified to disappoint any friends, so he doesn’t choose an actual side (which can be just as damaging sometimes)… In here, Papyrus knows that if he doesn’t do anything to actually help Frisk, he would be disappointing two friends instead of one (Frisk and Tori)… And he doesn’t want to break his promise to Tori, after learning what she has been through.

*When Frisk arrives, Captain Undyne (with her helmet) is by Papyrus’ side being all silently stoic (instead of his brother, since he isn’t around anymore), so Papyrus has to pretend to want to capture Frisk until she leaves.

*Undyne leaves before Papyrus’ ‘final battle’ with Frisk, so Papyrus pretends that Frisk had defeated him and after Frisk gives him mercy, he rewards Frisk with a victory dinner at his house.

*In there, Papyrus bonds and plays with Frisk, then reveals that he made his traps and puzzles incompetent on purpose to protect Frisk from the Captain.

*Papyrus tries to convince Frisk to stay with him, like Toriel did.

*But when Frisk wishes to continue their big adventure… Papyrus joins Frisk to protect them from the others, including Undyne and Mettaton later on. 

---

Aikoiya: I think this has serious potential, but I would personally keep Sans alive while still having it be Papyrus who befriended Toriel & made the promise to her.

The reason being that it’d allow for some serious friction between the brothers. After making the promise, perhaps Papyrus switched stations with Sans to ensure that he’d meet any humans that came out first.

Sans, of course, would only be stopped from making good on his alternate timeline version’s threat by the fact that Papyrus is obviously very protective of Frisk & hardly lets them out of his sight.

It’d certainly cause a lot of tension.

I also love the idea of Papyrus actively traveling with Frisk. It’s very reminiscent of an idea that I had for Underswap & Swapfell where Blueberry & Raspberry (US & SF Sans) does something similar.

[babecoups]

the art of vengeance || ksj

⤞ title: the art of vengeance ⤞ pairing: criminal!seokjin x female reader ⤞ genre: angst | horror | smut | suspense | thriller | strangers with benefits | crime au ⤞ summary: An eye for an eye is the old saying. But sometimes, people are greedy when it comes to revenge. Seokjin is that guy. Cross him over, and he’ll burn down everything in his path. People may compare him to a monster, but you see him as a man who’s been wrongfully accused. He’s your dark knight, and you are his angel. Ride or die describes your relationship perfectly, but you wouldn’t compare yourself to Bonnie and Clyde.

If revenge is best served cold, then betrayal must be delivered with a block of ice.

⤞ word count: 2.3k  

⤞ warnings  (Please look over all the warnings before reading!): dark themes | mentions murder | crime | violence | strong language | weapons |  mentions affairs and infidelity | plot twists | torture | oral sex(male receiving) | gagging | masturbation/fingering | deep throating | throat fucking | cum swallowing | exhibitionism | praise kink | sadism | manipulation | trust issues | unlawful imprisonment | forced voyeurism | pet names | mention prison escapes | mentions killing sprees/hit lists | mentions arson | revenge | betrayal. Please proceed with caution. I am not glorifying or romanticizing any of these acts but the story does include all of the above. If you know that darker themes are not for you, then do not read this story.  

⤞ rating: 18+/R

⤞ a/n: This is my submission for the Bangtan Deadly Sins collab. It’s slightly edited and reposted from my old blog. The sin I was given is wrath which happens to be represented by Seokjin. I hope I was able to deliver. Please read responsibly.

You’re unable to recognize the man who was once so gentle and kind. His face is adorned with the same grin that he’s always used to lure you in. Only now, it’s much darker, more sinister than it’s ever been.

The man you admired is long gone. Only a monster remains, a damn-good looking one, in fact. Seokjin used his appearance to his advantage while he was in prison. He sweet-talked you into believing he was an innocent man, framed by the system. 

But shortly after you assisted him in his prison escape, losing your job and freedom in the process—you discovered that Seokjin should have remained locked away until he died. However, now it is too late for regrets. You’re too deep in the hole you’ve dug for yourself.

“Only give her what she deserves, angel.” His delicate plump lips form a smirk. You observe them carefully, wondering how they feel. Are they as moist and soft as they look? “I’m just gonna make sure this bitch burns for what she did.”

The woman tied to the chair begins thrashing and squirming when she hears those words because she knows better than anyone that he will. Seokjin shows no mercy, especially for his ex-wife—and honestly, neither do you.

What Seokjin is doing is wrong and unjustified, but this isn’t just some innocent woman he chooses to torment. No. She’s nothing but an evil bitch, and everything she’s getting is well deserved.

She cheated on him with a married man. On Seokjin’s birthday, he found her and her lover having sex in their marital bed. She laughed in his face and told him he was lucky that she was even still with his boring ass. She’d been using the money he gave her to buy her lover nice things behind her husband’s back.

Seokjin was furious, and his rage was inflicted on the other guy. He roughed him up and kicked them both out on the street. Of course, his leech of an ex-wife tried to tail behind her boyfriend, but he rejected her advances.

The man had no intention of leaving his wife, and that infuriated her. She killed him in the driveway, and with the help of her crooked detective dad, she was able to frame Seokjin for the crime. She took everything after his arrest—the money, the house, his business. And he was left with nothing and no one.

You decided to help him after you heard this story. Putting the pieces together, you concluded he was telling the truth. You felt for him, and could relate to the feeling of being cheated on. It wasn’t easy, but somehow you managed to help him escape from prison. You two have been on the run since—only stopping to check another person off of his hit list.

First, was the dirty prosecutors and judge over his case, then his ex-father-in-law, and now, the woman who started it all, the former Mrs. Kim. But you’ve dreaded this moment. Not because he’s about to commit another murder, but because the next person on his list is innocent in all of this. The wife of his ex’s deceased lover, who has nothing to do with this. However, Seokjin wants everyone to suffer.

You thought you could save him. You really wanted to be his reason to love again—but only vengeance lies in Seokjin’s heart now. It’s far too late for love.

“But isn’t that too easy for her, babe? What if we dragged it out a little bit.” He raises one of his perfect eyebrows with a bit of interest.

“And what would that be, angel?” He’s slightly amused by the sudden boldness, but also fond and a bit impressed. 

Curiosity covers his face when you drop to your knees. He clears his throat when you reach for his belt buckle, but does not stop you.

“Seeing you happy, that’ll kill her.” You wink at him while unbuttoning his pants. 

You pull them down enough to remove his dick from his boxers, watching how he bites his lip when you begin moving your hand up and down his length.

Seokjin releases a small sigh as your tongue rolls over the tip of his cock, licking up a small amount of precum that has seeped out. You use your spit to lubricate him while he hardens in your hand.

Seokjin grabs your hair and chuckles. “Angel’s gonna show you how it’s done. Maybe next time you’ll actually be able to snatch someone’s husband if you pay attention.”

Your mouth opens wide, and he guides your head forward until his dick touches your lips. You take him in until he’s nestled deep inside of you, moaning at the taste of his dick. Your eyes water from the stretch, but you adjust quickly by relaxing your throat.

Breathing through your nose and keeping eye contact, you bob your head up and down while slurping and salivating over his length. The muffled cries of his envious ex-wife only fuels you to keep going, and pride swells in your chest when you notice Seokjin’s blissful state.

You know his mind is no longer on the woman who broke his heart, but on the woman who tried to fix it. He acknowledges your efforts, and that is all you can ask for.

“Shit, I’m gonna come, angel,” he grunts, grabbing both sides of your head and holding you still. 

Seokjin then uses your mouth to finish himself off since time is limited and you cannot get carried away. You’re sure to breathe through your nose and relax your muscles so  that his dick can enter as smoothly as possible.

A puddle forms beneath you—a mixture of saliva and both of your arousals. Two of your fingers work at a rapid speed to provide the self-pleasure you’re craving. Your eyes involuntarily roll back in response to satisfaction from the feeling of having both holes filled at once.

“You feel so good, angel…gonna feed you well, okay?” Seokjin promises, and your stomach bubbles with excitement. 

The sensations of your moans drive him closer to his release. He thrusts deep into your mouth unexpectedly, hitting the back of your throat and causing you to gag around him.

Your orgasm also hits you without a warning, and your walls pulse around your fingers as you ride out your climax. Your sounds of pleasure have Seokjin shooting his load shortly after, and his cum warms and soothes your sore airways. 

You swallow him greedily, enjoying the way his humming travels through the room like soft tunes. It’s captivating how someone so cold has such a beautiful voice. It’s just amazing how ethereal and god-like he is, especially as he stares down at you during his post-orgasmic bliss.

“You’re everything I could ever want,” Seokjin whispers, slowly sliding out of you. 

He wipes away the tears you have shed and your cum-stained lips before helping you up and smoothing out the tiny wrinkles in your dress.

You cannot deny the joy that fills your heart when he says those words, but your breakthrough is short-lived when the woman bound and gagged begins to thrash around again. She’s angry, and you can make out the disgusting things she is calling you both.

“I think it’s time to shut her up.” 

Seokjin tucks himself back in his pants and grabs his machete from the table behind you, prepared to make his way towards her.

“Wait.” You grip his arm to stop him. The scowl on his face softens when he looks at you. “Let me.”

“Angel, I don’t think you have it in you,” he chuckles.

“But I’d do it for you.” He pulls you closer and you look at him with pleading eyes. “I just want to make you happy.”

And that does it.

“Okay, angel.” Seokjin sighs, leaning forward to press his forehead against yours. He places a small kiss on your lips; it’s his way of showing you what little affection he possesses. “I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

You nod, and he pulls away before turning to his ex-wife one last time.

“You’re the one who should be calling her angel because she just saved your ass, bitch.” He tells her before leaving the old farm.

Once he’s out of there, you turn to the pathetic excuse of a human sitting in the middle of the room.

“Don’t call me your angel.” You remove your handgun from your thigh holster and set it on the table. “...because I’m not here to save you. The only mercy you had just walked out of the door.”

Her face turns pale when you pick up a knife and make your way towards her. When you straddle her, she freezes with fear. Tears form in her eyes when the weapon comes up to her cheek. You slide it under the dirty rag used to muffle her screams then tear the fabric so she can speak. The blade leaves a small cut on her skin in the process, but you could care less.

“Do you know who the fuck I am?” you ask her, and she shakes her head nervously. “Hey, open your mouth when I ask you a question, whore. You had no problem keeping it wide when my husband was shoving his dick inside of it.”

The woman’s eyes widen at the realization of how fucked she is. You smile at her and give her a second to take it all in before you speak. When she tries to look away, you grab her face and force her to return her attention to you.

“Gives you chills, doesn’t it? Looking in the face of your killer, knowing that this is the last thing you’ll ever see before you leave this earth. I bet my scumbag husband felt the same way.” 

“Ma’am, please. I’m so sorry for ruining your marriage, but I didn’t kill your husband. I swear—”

“Stop your fucking lying. I had been thinking of ways to get rid of the son of a bitch anyway,” you confess, and the woman is at a loss for words. 

“And honey, a bit of advice, cheat with men who are actually worth the risk. That loser was terrible in bed. But Seokjin…that man can please you without even lifting a finger.” 

A smirk forms on your face. “I had a blast fucking your ex-husband. Too bad I’m next on his little list.”

“You need to stay away from him. He’s crazy,” she warns.

“No…he’s pissed off. But so am I.” 

You move some of the hair out of her face. She’s by far one of the prettiest women you’ve ever laid eyes on, but unfortunately her soul is hideous.

“He’s manipulating you, using you to fulfill his twisted plan. You’re following him around like a lost puppy. Can’t you see you’re being used?” she cries.

“Ha! Is that what you think is happening here? Oh sweetie, you really are dumb as a box of rocks.” You get directly in her face. “Bitch, you have no idea who you’re fucking with, do you? I am the whore you’re inspiring to be. The one that’s fucking your man so good that he can’t even take a shit without consulting with me first.”

It’s your specialty; men always fall for the obedient type. All you have to do is worship the ground they walk on, and they’re hooked. They want your attention, need your approval, and that’s what gets them caught up in your web.

“You know I was minding my own business, and your homewrecking ass just had to ruin everything. You killed my husband—”

“You didn’t even love him!” Her interruption earns her a slap across the face.

“Let me fucking finish,” you seethe. “What I mean is that you killed him before he could make me sole beneficiary. I could have had it all, but you had to fucking be bitch.” 

You stand to your feet. 

“Now, both you and your handsome ex-husband are going to have to pay for it. I know he emptied your accounts behind my back, and when I’m done in here, I’m going to put a bullet in that empty heart of his,” you wink.

“Seokj—” You stuff her mouth with the torn rag before she can scream his name.

“Goodbye, love. I hope you pass out before the flames start scorching that beautiful skin.” 

Her screams and pleas fall upon deaf ears as you make your way to the exit. Hopefully, she’s learned her lesson about stepping outside of her marriage to fuck up another.

“…all of you motherfuckers can burn in hell,” is the last thing you say to her.

Seokjin’s been played too many times to fall for a pair of doe-like eyes and a nice ass. He knows exactly what you’re doing, acting all innocent and obedient. You aren’t fooling him at all. He remembers the twisted look on your face when you saw your own name on his hit list. All trust was lost at that very moment. Because he then knew that you were just as fucked up as he.

You are beautiful, intelligent, sexy…every man’s dream—but also his worst nightmare. The power your cunt holds over him is fatal, and Seokjin’s been playing a game of Russian Roulette. It’s going to suck putting a bullet between your pretty eyes, but it must be done. You’re just a snake that’s wrapped itself around his neck, and it’s only a matter of time before you constrict.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way, but you were hard to resist. And to be honest, the thought of wrecking the man’s wife who did the same to his satisfied Seokjin in more ways than one. It’s such a shame that it all has to end here.

“Babe, it’s done…light her up!” He hears your sweet voice call out from behind him.

Seokjin smirks as he cocks his gun.

“Don’t worry, angel. I will.”

[burnyouwithacigarettelighter]

part i, autonomy in your coherence | c.g

With something like time that runs round with the world — ignoring it’s inhabitants and stealing things that you’d hidden away for safekeeping — you’ve taken up the hobby of art, furiously sketching faces that are six-feet under.

The skill is beautiful and horrific all the same, watching like a person with amnesia as the portraits begin to lose their depth, the freshness, the personality that came free with who you’d chosen to print on the page.

You’ve forgotten your feelings for Carl, because he didn’t feel the same.

You just wished you did a better job at it.

WARNINGS: mentions of death, suicide ideation

this is a continuation of watch you burn away and i recommend you read that, first! this is also part of a series, so here is the masterlist if you need it!

(cross-posted on ao3!)

Your father once told you he had a patient that died from heartbreak.

“Your heart can’t really break, though, right?” You’d said. A doctor for a father and a laboratory technician for a mother made you more than aware of things, seeing through the myths and pretty white lies of figures like Santa and the tooth fairy.

(They had gone through with it anyway, because although their child knew, it was a gateway to normality in such a busy home.)

Your father scratched his chin, unsure how to respond. “My patient had died from a broken heart, though the process wasn’t as simple as it’s term name. A broken heart — the nonliteral meaning — can be the cause and the domino toppling to many things that could lead to death.”

“Like what?” You’d said with little admission into the conversation, having been flicking through a novel you’d picked up a while back (which featured a one eyed pirate and his partner who’d ended up dying in the end — not that you knew, yet, at least.)

“I don’t know, er,” Your father swirled his coffee lightly, gesturing wildly with his free hand, “Mental health issues, for one. Erratic actions, depression, a lost sense of self. Obsession.”

“Huh,” You muttered, looking up at your father for the first time. “A lost sense of self? Really?”

“What is your father teaching you?” Your mother said, stepping into the kitchen with a questioning expression. The conversation ended there, without so much as a thought after.

You wish you pried your father for further answers. What you’d give to get the workaholic of a man to dump his duo psychology medical major thoughts unto you with little care.

The knowledge would be gold in your time of need, when pulling and pushing distance further between you was like venturing through a field of thorns.

(Perhaps you just missed your parents. But that couldn’t be it, right? They’d died and you had lived, their blood on your hands and the gun in your fingers, their glazed over eyes and your own that nearly matched, cold and willing without a drop of emotion.)

But you’d gotten through it for him— without him. Without anyone, quietly harboring scratches and bleeding from the field with little effort.

If someone asked, you would tell them with full and honest confidence that you harboured no more attachments. You were a naive teenager, running through your feet and over yourself for something that was just a crush.

Crushes are — in their whole singularity and purpose —  temporary.

They are brief, and momentarily something that causes ripples and waves in your thoughts, just the slightest mention or faint sight makes you detour down a road of sickly sweet dreams and fantasies.

He was first love (like? You didn’t love him, no, it was a crush and it was something for the unattainable and the inappropriate — in which with full truth, he was.) so you poured the honey glazed remembrances and rose coloured lenses over your memories, because he was a first love, and you know that those were cracks in the heart, growing vines and constricting the part that was him — the part that’d always, always be there, without a doubt.

(However much you didn’t want it to be.)

The leaves and the venomous flowers that sprout in decaying grooves come with age, and you are older now.

You bear fresh scars that litter your entire being and wear newly buried bones of people who were once not just that, the dirt still sitting in the crevices of your nails, and you seem to forget their voices with each passing day.

With something like time that runs round with the world — ignoring it’s inhabitants and stealing things that you’d hidden away for safekeeping — you’ve taken up the hobby of art, furiously sketching faces that are six-feet under.

The skill is beautiful and horrific all the same, watching like a person with amnesia as the portraits begin to lose their depth, the freshness, the personality that came free with who you’d chosen to print on the page.

More and more, the faces look like reference art rather than a taken from life picture, which was all telling them to sit still and watching their eyes crinkle at the edges when you show them the result, voices echoing and asking if they could have it.

Everyday, as it has become a peevish habit like biting your nails or obsessively reminding yourself your stove is off, you draw pictures of everyone.

If you are close enough with them, you ask the subject to sit and model for you, analyzing every breath and laugh they take when you crack a joke or engage them in meaningless conversation just to see how the light hits their brows when they raise, the shadows pooling in their aging lines.

Everyday, you wish and hope and even fucking pray that their portraits continue to be something of anxious routine, rather than trying to dump their image out of your head and onto paper so you can see their faces one more time.

His image seems to change with each moment he sits in for you, once a face with two piercing blues, then a patch and eyes that looked at the dusty wooden floor, and later, someone who looks at you straight, something that told you he was a survivor, who bore his battles proudly, the scar on the right of his face sitting ruggedly and bewitchingly.

You draw him, exactly the way you see him, and when you show him the picture, he laughs, and says “You made me look too pretty,” and you shake your head, “It’s exactly the way I see you.”

You do her, too, upon request. When she sits, you draw her almost like it was professional, drawing the curvature of her face with exact precision, intense shading, marking the features she holds. The dip in her nose, the straight of her hair.

(You often forget who you’re drawing in these moments, and when you step away from the canvas you’re hit with whiplash. It’s subconscious, the way you do these things to please him, wanting to see so clearly how his face spreads delicately with delight.)

It takes a little while for you to convince Ron. When you first propose the drawing, he gives you a confused face, before walking off to do shooting practice. He’s gotten better with the gun over the years, and doesn’t respond when you tell him you know why.

(His mother didn’t come out of it alive, and his brother didn’t come back without harm. The younger boy was alive, but would grow up with only his brother by his side and one less limb to account for.)

The second time, he makes a snide comment, albeit with no bite, about how ‘you must be a horrible artist, to ask me of all people to model for you.’

The third time, you’ve dragged him to the small office you makeshifted for the drawings in the garage. He studies every slit of paper you’ve ripped out of your book, the unfinished sketches or yet-to-be painted canvases piling up against the walls. Complete works sit proudly on your wall, displayed for the world to see.

His hands hover over the paints sitting on your desk, charcoal, dirt, sticks, paintbrushes, handmade dyes, wallpaper cut-outs.

“Why?” Ron says curiously.

“‘Why?’ what?” You echo, fiddling with a fork you grabbed from the kitchen, splaying out a thick lather combination of beet dye and cement onto your finger to check the consistency.

“Why do you draw these portraits? I get the others because,” He says, leaving the words “because they’re dead” hanging in the air between you two in mutual and regretful acknowledgement, “But you draw these everyday. You drag Carl and Enid off, or just sit on the benches and draw Maggie and Glenn knee-deep in the dirt.”

You sigh a dreadful breath, wiping the rest of the beet-cement mix onto the page with the pad of your fore-finger. “We’ll forget them one day.”

He looks at you, unblinking. The dead, the gone, and the soon to be long forgotten only existed in your memories, in your words, and when the time came that the world had moved on and stopped, they would cease. Their whole memory relied on the living, nothing about them able to reach and grasp life on their own. Memory was all that was left, and it was all you could do to wash away regret.

“And the rest?”

You bite your tongue hesitantly, your movements rigid, “You see their portraits. Everyday they get less and less coherent. When — when time comes , these drawings will be the only thing getting me by.” You whispered.

The ball had dropped. Coping and grief in it’s big and ugly form, preying on your conscious hungrily, taking shelter in your largest worries. Claws sunken in your flesh, the monster was a thing that felt like it would never go away, because it would loom right alongside death itself, watching and waiting for the moment they’d deemed someones time to have been enough.

(It would never be enough. Enough meant they’d pop in from next door and ask to borrow something, enough meant they’d swipe dirt across your face to make you angry — enough meant they would come in everyday and sit for their portrait once more.)

A creaking on the floorboard caught your attention, eyes watching as Ron’s feet walk to the corner of the room, before hopping onto the wooden seat with little effort.

“I’m not going. I never will. But — do it anyway. I’d… like to see how I look on paper.” He said cheekily, picking up a thin pencil off your desk and handing it out to you.

So you did. Seconds turned to minutes and minutes snowballed into hours in the dim lighting of the garage, asking the blond to turn his body, stretch his head and make different expressions, fulfilling and destroying the little worm of worry sitting in your head.

When you’re done with the charcoal, turning it around for Ron to see and to inspect, he asks, “What about you?”

“And what about me?” You say. His questions never make sense without further discussion, but the boy always has to wait for you to pry and ask him to elaborate.

“You don’t have any drawings of yourself. You’re the artist, the photographer, the one who makes these things that will stay longer than the memories and the words — so what about you?”

It’s rare that Ron delves into his emotions and the things he really means, but when he does, it’s something that stays, for a long while.

“I,” You didn’t have an answer for it. You weren’t one to do a self-portrait, it not being the same as having someone to sit and take from. “I don’t want to.” You finished simply, an ice cold realization coming to reality in you.

“Why?” He says the same words as before, but the words hold a heavy weight.

“I don’t know.”

You knew.

Maybe one day, you’d wished that you’d wash away like seafoam on the beach. You wouldn’t leave a single portrait behind of you, and the memories and the words were left mum behind his lips, because you knew how he got in a loss.

Quiet and unfeeling, it was so selfish of you that you’d counted on how he got in that state to leave you behind, neglecting you like the fruits of your memories you’d never get to bear.

Ron’s gaze bore into you like he knew exactly what you were thinking, telepathically taking in every thought you’d conveyed at your dispense.

“You should.” Is all he says, before stepping off the wooden stool and out the door.

What was wrong with you? You feel so… entirely foolish. Obsolete. Embarrassing.

You walked past the remnants of those who were gone everyday, obsessively creating canvas over canvas of them and the only thing you could think was that you’d wish to position yourself beside them?

This world was catching up to you, and fast, but you’d just have to run faster than it could.

[archived-kin]

three names

note from kin: apparently that domestic diluc piece really did wonders for my writers block because i managed to churn this entire thing out within one night

anyway i know little to nothing about childe’s backstory so do be warned that i am only very loosely following the information we get from his story quest/voice lines/etc!

(also as a heads up childe is referred to as ajax throughout this piece! for those who don't know, ajax is his birth name)

fandom: genshin impact

character(s): gn!reader, childe, zhongli

pairing(s): childe/reader

warning(s): death (brief and not descriptive), mentions of blood

genre: angst i guess?? it isn’t SUPER heavy but this is very much Not A Happy Piece

You’ve known Ajax for what feels like forever.

The two of you grow up together on the streets of Morepesok, spending the short hours of daylight chasing each other down icy streets and pelting each other with snowballs until your fingers are frozen solid under their mittens and you’re both lying exhausted under the trees. He’s still a somewhat skittish and shy young boy, always hiding behind you while you ask the local farmers for permission to play in their fields and leaving all of the decisions to you when it comes to your childish games.

You know exactly how to get those blue eyes of his to light up like no other, though. Ever since the two of you were tiny tots, Ajax has always been enchanted by stories of adventures, of heroes who journey far from home to conquer evils beyond his childish comprehension, fighting with both sword and mind to quell any hardships or troubles that come their way. He listens to his father tell him these stories with a sparkle in his eye like no other, and begs for a new chapter as soon as one is finished.

You take advantage of this love of adventure to coax him into playing with you - him, the hero and you, his trusty sidekick, braving fight after fight together until the great sea monster is defeated, or until the brainwashed former friend was released - until the world bows down at your feet. You stand beside him and smile as he cackles, foot set atop a stone and brandishing a stick to the sky like a sword.

While Ajax longs for battle and glory, however, you secretly prefer the stories about the fisherman who wins the favour of the sea gods by saving a seal from a net, about the fae who collects the treasures of the land in an attempt to preserve the remains of a race she has loved and lost, about the dragon who follows the rainbow far into the east to find a companion who has fallen under the control of an evil sorcerer. Where he finds interest in tales of clashing blades and rumbling cannons, you find interest in the warmth of a campfire, surrounded by laughing companions that have shared a long journey together. You don’t love these games for the fights and the victories like he does - you love the games because it means you can be with him.

You suppose that this difference of interests is the reason you stay behind when he leaves on his own ‘heroic journey’.

The two of you are only fourteen - still children, for Archons’ sake - and Ajax has long since lost interest in the mundanity of his daily life.

“All we do is eat and play,” He mutters with a pout, poking at the snow with a stick. “It’s boring.”

You tilt your head in confusion and trot up to stand beside him, face half-hidden behind a scarf wrapped like a vice around your neck. “What do you mean?”

He scoffs a little then, and offers you a boyish grin. “Don’t worry, [Name]. You’re an exception.”

You still don’t understand what he means, not exactly, but it still sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

The next day, he knocks on your door, dressed in an over-large coat and his favourite hat, a backpack strapped firmly to his back and a rusty shortsword in his hand. He beams at you as you open the door, and announces that he’s running away to find an adventure, and that he was wondering if you wanted to come with him.

You ask if this is another game he wants to play. He shakes his head and tells you that this is for real - that he’s going to explore far and wide, to seek out the quests that he’s heard so many stories about. He’s going to be a hero, and he wants you to be his sidekick, just like always.

But you have always been a little too timid, too afraid of going so far out into the snow, too aware of the dangers of a reckless jaunt like this. And so, bowing your head in shame, you answer that you can’t

He freezes for a moment then, disappointment clear on his face, but he replaces it with a a grin almost immediately. You don’t know it at the time, but this is the last time you’ll ever see him smile like this again.

“Don’t worry about it!” He reassures you. “I’ll bring back lots of souvenirs for you when I come back! Like a dragon head!”

“I don’t like heads.” You mumble. “Too much blood.”

He doesn’t falter. “A dragon claw, then!”

The two of you exchange brief goodbyes, neither of you aware of the magnitude of what Ajax is choosing to do, nor the consequences it will bring, and then he leaves. And you let him, watching his little figure disappear and melt into the blinding white of the snow.

It’s a mistake that continues to haunt you for the rest of your life.

He turns up again, two days later, lying unconscious on the outskirts of the forest by the village. A mere two days - but somehow, you’ve always felt as if he’d been away for much, much longer.

Ajax is never the same after that. He’s more distracted, more absent - he never wants to go out for walks in the fields with you anymore, nor does he have any interest in playing games or hearing stories. He still lets you follow him around and sit beside him, but he speaks less and less, and spends more and more time thinking.

You don’t give up on him, though. It doesn’t matter how much his blank gaze scares you sometimes, nor how unsettling the look on his face is after he shreds yet another hay training dummy to pieces. You hang around him anyway, talking about every little thing that comes to mind, and sometimes, he replies with the same silliness that he did when the two of you were younger.

It bothers you, the way that he swings so abruptly between the old him and the new him. Sometimes he’s just the boy you’d spent your childhood playing with, chasing you down the street only to stuff snow down the back of your jacket, then making you a hot drink afterwards as an apology when you declare that you hate him. But sometimes he isn’t.

His face stills, and his eyes go cold. He stares emptily at the snow beneath his feet, not responding when you call his name, and he returns to his garden sooner or later, to slaughter another line of training dummies. The way he gazes down at the wreckage, the way his hand clenches around the shaft of an arrow or the hilt of a blade, the way that he seems to hunger for more - it scares you.

Perhaps it is unsurprising that he joins the Fatui as soon as he turns seventeen.

He doesn’t tell you - he doesn’t tell anyone, not at first. He simply slips away and leaves, sometimes for days on end, and returns without a word as to his absence. You believe him when he tells you that it’s a series of job interviews in a different town, even congratulate him on the opportunity. You believe a lot of the lies he tells you.

It isn’t until you come upon him in the middle of one of his assignments that the wool is finally pulled away from your eyes.

You’re out in the city on a shopping trip by your mother’s request, carrying several baskets of fresh produce that just don’t grow quickly enough in your little seaside town, when you spot his auburn hair disappearing into a secluded alleyway. You follow quickly, opening your mouth to call out to him, only to snap it shut when you see what he’s doing.

A woman is lying beneath his foot, and he is crushing the breath out of her with the heel of his boot. There is a blade in his hand, glinting softly in the darkness of the alleyway.

The woman sobs breathlessly, begs for her life to be spared, her face contorted with fear and despair. But Ajax doesn’t flinch. In one, smooth movement, he points the blade to her neck and slashes.

You don’t know if the scream that echoes around the alleyway is yours or hers.

It’s only then that he finally turns around and sees you, and the mask covering the upper half of his face is all too familiar.

Your eyes fall upon the dead woman, her mouth still open in her final plea for mercy.

“Ajax,” You whisper, your voice trembling. “What have you done?”

The bloodstained blade in his hand clatters to the ground. “[Name]... what are you doing here?”

You don’t answer him. Your entire body feels numb. “You’re… you’re one of the Fatui.”

It isn’t a question.

He’s silent for a long time. Finally, he lets out a frustrated sigh, tearing the mask from his face and throwing it to the ground carelessly, and approaches you, hands held out as if comforting a frightened child.

“I didn’t want you to find out like this,” He says quietly.

“Were you ever going to let me find out?” You ask. Your eyes move back to the woman’s corpse despite everything in your brain screaming at you to look away, and your hands start shaking.

Ajax notices. He steps in front of the body, as if trying to shield it from your view. “Of course. I was just waiting for the right time to tell you, that’s all.”

“Why… why would you…?”

He meets your gaze. He shrugs. “I wanted to fight.”

There is blood staining the left side of his face. Your eyes are drawn to it in the same way they were to the corpse, and you feel a sudden burst of anger on her behalf. “How was this a fight? You trapped her in an alleyway - you didn’t even give her a chance to struggle!”

“This is different.” He states, as if it’s obvious, and his eyes go cold. “The woman was defying the will of the Tsaritsa. She needed to be disposed of.”

“Is that all you are now? A puppet of the Tsaritsa?!” You’re practically shouting now, tears threatening to start streaming down your face. You want to punch him, slap him, anything to make him realise what path he’s rapidly beginning to go down, but there isn’t any strength left in you. Not after what you just saw. “What happened to you?!”

“I changed,” He says simply, and his sea-blue eyes are frozen over completely. This isn’t the boy that you grew up and loved - and it occurs to you that he might not have been for a long, long time. “I grew up and I changed.”

“Ajax—” You begin, but he places a finger to your lips.

“It’s Tartaglia now.”

Perhaps if you look close enough, hope hard enough, you’ll be able to fool yourself into thinking there was some kind of emotion on his face - something, anything that proves that he still cares - but there is nothing but emptiness in his gaze.

You don’t sleep that night. You don’t sleep for a long, long time, unable to put a stop to the unrelenting march of thoughts streaming through your head like a gushing river, like the endless depths of the ocean, like the deep blue of his eyes...

You distract yourself as best you can. You move out of town while he’s out on another mission and take your parents with you, settling down in a small village at the base of a mountain. There, you busy yourself every hour of the day, taking solace in the ache of your muscles and the fatigue that weighs heavily on your limbs. The people of the village come to know you as the helping hand, the eager assistant, always raring to go when asked for a favour.

And yet, even as you sit around a table in the local bar, surrounded by warmth and chatter and familiar faces, you can’t help but feel an emptiness opening in your chest. Old Dmitri, manning the bar as usual, slides a tankard over to you with a sympathetic smile, and asks, “What’s wrong?”

You ask yourself that question more times than you can count, digging it deep into your skin, carving it into your mind, unable to help wondering, and yet... you never find an answer. What is wrong with you? Why does Ajax’s absence cut into you like a knife, keeping you awake deep into the night, plagued by dreams of cold, dead eyes and red blood pooling in the white snow? Why is it that, no matter how many times you remind yourself of the man in that alleyway and the body of the woman he’d just slaughtered, of the man that was not Ajax, of Tartaglia - you can only remember the grinning boy of your childhood?

Your parents don’t know why your eyes are always red-rimmed when you come down for breakfast in the morning, nor why you refuse to look at your surroundings when you go out into town, keeping your eyes focused determinedly on your dragging feet.  They don’t know how many hours you spend staring out into the deep sky, wondering if Ajax is watching the same stars as you are, whether he even thinks of you at all.

Everything around you seems to taunt you, and you realise something.

You have to leave. You have to run away, to find a home in a place where the streets don’t stir up memories of days long gone, where the crunch of the snow beneath your feet doesn’t remind you of the sound of tearing flesh, where you can just be without Ajax haunting you around every corner you turn.

And so you set off for Liyue. You journey to the land amidst monoliths, seeking golden soil warmed by the sun to escape the cold snow and icy rain. You do not stop moving until you reach the land where the mountains stretch high and the streets of the harbour are painted with red and yellow, where the people are unfamiliar, the buildings are unfamiliar - where everything is unfamiliar. You’re tired of dwelling on past memories, tired of putting yourself through the same pain.

You settle in quickly, taking up a job at Wanmin Restaurant and eventually saving up enough to afford more than the little hotel box room you first are resigned to stay in. You move in with a new friend of yours, an apparently refined gentleman who seems to have no shortage of money but still always forgets to bring it when he needs it, and you start to remember what living in peace feels like again.

You take a deep breath as you watch the bustle of the city from the open window of your bedroom. The cool evening breeze in Liyue Harbour is soothing, unlike the biting nightly winds of Snezhnaya. Perhaps you can finally let go of Ajax now, you think.

Somewhere in the heavens, Fate mocks your hopefulness.

Two years later, your friend, who has only become even worse at managing his money despite your constant nagging, invites you to a dinner with him and a new acquaintance he’d like to introduce you to. You agree, unsuspecting of the true identity of his so-called ‘friend’.

You take one step into the private room that Zhongli had booked and realise what a terrible mistake you’ve made when you see a familiar figure sitting at the table.

He doesn’t turn around at first, too occupied with trying to take a sip of his tea without burning his mouth. Zhongli smiles at you, painfully unaware of the amount of old trauma he’s inadvertently stirred up.

“I’m glad that you made it,” He says pleasantly, and gestures to the man sitting across from him. “This is the acquaintance I was telling you about. His name is Childe.”

There is a long silence. The initial shock of the moment wears off, only to be replaced by something resembling anger.

“So it’s Childe now, is it?” Ajax stiffens as he hears your voice come from behind him. “How many names does one man need?”

He turns around agonisingly slowly, failing to register the dangerous tilt of the teacup in his hands as it comes close to tipping its contents all over the table. You stare blankly back at him from the doorway.

How long has it been since he last saw you? He doesn’t know. Ever since the two of you had parted ways in that alleyway, you’d all but disappeared. The window to your bedroom had always been dark and empty when he stopped by your home, and neither you nor your parents were anywhere to be seen, no matter how thoroughly he’d searched the town. It had only been when Tonia had mentioned your absence in one of his letters that he’d realised that you weren’t just avoiding him. You’d left. Left the town where the two of you had grown up, left the home you’d lived in for so long, left behind all the friends you’d made over the years - just to run away from him.

There are new scars on your face, a new poise in the way you hold yourself. A sheathed dagger glitters at your belt, and even now you toy with its hilt in a way that tells him that you are familiar with it. You’ve changed so much, and he aches to think that he had been unable to see any of it.

He hadn’t wanted you to go, he never had. You’d always been his best friend, someone he looked up to, someone he enjoyed the company of, someone he cherished - someone he loved. But he’d had a duty to attend to, a new mistress to serve, a new title, a new responsibility. He couldn’t keep fooling himself into thinking he could keep the relationship he had with you forever.

That day in the alleyway - he’s never been able to forget the look on your face when you realised who he had become. It’s been burnt into his memory ever since then, flashing before his eyes just before he strikes, and even now, five years later, he still gets reprimanded by his fellow Harbingers for faltering just before he makes the kill. They always ask - how can Tartaglia, who takes pleasure in watching the life drain out of his opponent’s eyes after a battle well fought, hesitate like that?

He never has an answer for them.

Zhongli looks back and forth between the two of you, his brows knitting together slightly. “Do the two of you know each other already?”

“You could say that,” You reply, though your eyes don’t move even an inch from your old friend’s face. His expression is crumpled, almost vulnerable, a far cry from the stone-cold indifference he wore the last time you saw him.

“[Name],” He says finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “What… what are you doing here?”

You raise your eyebrows at him. “I’ve lived in Liyue Harbour for two years. Why wouldn’t I be here?”

Several seconds pass by with no response.

“It seems the two of you have much to talk about,” Zhongli observes, and gets to his feet. “I’ll leave you for now.”

He’s out of the room before either of you can object. Damn him and his perception.

You don’t sit down at the table. Instead, you move to the window, looking out over the city that you have come to love.

Ajax joins you. He hesitates as he approaches, as if debating whether or not to settle right beside you as he would have in the past. Eventually, though, he decides to keep his distance.

“Liyue is beautiful at night.” He says quietly. “Language is a nightmare to learn, though.”

That earns him a short laugh from you, and he can’t help the way his heart skips a beat as he hears it. “You can say that again. I don’t think I even have a proper grasp of it now.”

“You’re speaking pretty fluently,” He replies. “I’d say that’s a proper enough grasp.”

“It’s all just conversational, really.” You don’t look at him, instead choosing to look down at Xiangling, Xingqiu and Chongyun as they walk through the street below you together, exchanging jokes and nudges. “What about you?”

“I’d like to think I know it pretty well. I had to learn for—”

He cuts himself off, but you already know what he’d been about to say.

“For your Fatui duties here,” You finish for him, and though you don’t move, somehow he feels as if the gap between you has widened. “There’s no need for pretences, Childe.”

He freezes at the way you address him. It’s become familiar to him after using it as an alias for so long, but it sounds so wrong coming from you. It feels as if you’re distancing yourself from him, from the childhood you shared together. As if Ajax, your childhood friend, never existed - only Childe, the Fatui Harbinger.

“Don’t…” His voice breaks, and he forces himself to take a deep breath before continuing. “Don’t call me that.”

“Why not?” You sound so detached, so distant - and he hates it. “Would you prefer Tartaglia? That’s what you told me to call you last time we met.”

He feels as if you’ve stabbed him in the chest. It probably would’ve hurt less if you did, actually, but he knows he deserves it. “...no. I don’t want you to call me Tartaglia, either.”

You don’t respond, but he continues anyway. “I want… I want you to call me Ajax.”

Silence.

You finally turn to look at him, surprise painted on your features. “...what?”

Your eyes are just as he remembers them. He never wants to see them as they were on that day five years ago, filled with despair and tears that threatened to brim over.

He takes a deep breath and repeats, “I want you to call me Ajax.”

You stare at him for a long moment. Your face shifts, as if you can’t decide whether you want to be angry or sad or something else entirely. You open your mouth to say something, but at that moment the door opens again, and Zhongli pokes his head in.

“My apologies,” He says a little sheepishly, “But the attendant informed me that we should start ordering our dishes now if we don’t want to accidentally go over our time slot. That is - if you two are alright with having dinner with each other?”

You don’t respond immediately. Your eyes stay on the man gazing almost wistfully at you, your expression becoming thoughtful.

It’s been five years since you’ve last seen him. Five years of sleepless, tormented nights spent tossing and turning, of days spend exhausting yourself just so that you don’t think of him, of a journey filled with obstacles and monsters just to find a place to be at peace in, and just as you finally think you might be moving on, he shows up again.

Maybe you should be angry. Maybe you should be drawing your dagger and threatening him to stay the fuck away from your city and to take his Fatui agents with him. Maybe you should punch him right where it hurts most for all the pain he’s caused you.

But… you’re tired. You’re tired of hurting, tired of remembering. And maybe there’s a little part of you that hopes - a little part of you that still clings to the boy you played with on the streets of Morepesok, the boy that you lost the moment you let him leave on that journey.

And so you come to a conclusion.

“I’ll stay for dinner. What about you, Ajax?”

[rebelwrites]

You Love Me Really

Harvey Specter x Reader

Requested by @little-diable // 5 and 16 for Harvey please xxx with prompts 5 “I’m too sober for this.” “You don’t even drink.” “Maybe I should start.” And 16 “According to this survey, most people agree you are, in fact, a gigantic asshole.”

Join The TagList Here 💜 // Harvey Specter Masterlist

Every single day you buried your feelings, feelings you shouldn’t even have with Harvey being your boss. But you couldn’t help yourself there was something about Harvey that just drew you in. And to make things worse you were now his prodigy with Mike making junior partner. So you were spending a lot more time with him.

There was one thing that you hated and always made your heart hurt, and that was his relationship with Donna. Now you loved Donna, she was your best friend and was the one that got you the job but their flirty behaviour just hurt to watch.

So here you were, listening to him go on about the weekly meal him and Donna had. Your patience was wearing real thin with it all now. It’s not like you could admit your feelings to him. He was your boss and probably wouldn’t feel the same way.

“Sounds great Harvey” you nodded trying not to let the green monster show. But this was Harvey you were talking about so when a smirk crossed his lips you knew he knew you were jealous.

“You know if I didn’t know better I would assume you are jealous that I spend my evenings with Donna” he smirked sitting on the sofa next to you. “You say you hate me but you love me really”

“Damn I’m too sober for this” you muttered.

“Sweetheart you don’t even drink” he chuckled.

“Yeah well maybe I should start” you shrugged “now can I get on with this case you gave me or you just going to bore me to death all day”

“Well someone pissed in your Cheerios this morning” he laughed.

“Yeah very funny” you said rolling your eyes “now I’m going to do some actual work, you know the work I’m paid to do”

You had managed to avoid Harvey for the whole day, or that’s what you thought. You didn’t expect him to be sitting at your desk in the bullpen, with that god damn smirk on his face that made your heart flutter.

“Is there a reason you are sitting in my chair?” You asked, raising your brow at him as you dropped the file onto your desk.

“I came to check on you, you seemed pissed off about something earlier” he said standing up so you could sit down.

“Oh you know just have an annoying boss and all” you shrugged “nothing I can’t handle”

“It was because of what I said wasn’t it?” He asked.

“You’d like to think it was the reason wouldn’t you” you said leaning back in your chair. “I mean I took a survey today and according to it most people agree you are, in fact, a gigantic asshole.”

Harvey was a bit taken back by your comment, you had never acted out before and it was starting to worry him. Sighing in defeat he left you to it, whilst he tried to think what could have pissed you off to the point you were blatantly sassing him in front of the other associates.

As the hours ticked on, he kept checking on you from afar. It was time he grew some balls and admitted how he felt, he had a feeling that the reason you were in a mood was because he was going on about dinner with Donna when I’m actual fact the evening was spent on him trying to figure out if he should confess his true feelings to you and Donna providing advice.

He was so nervous as he walked through the office with what looked like a folder for a case in his hand, when in fact it was the booking reservation he made at your favourite restaurant.

“Y/L/N” he smiled leaning against the walls of your cubicle passing you the folder “I got you something”

“Another case?” You asked.

“Look and find out” he smiled.

As you opened the folder you saw a booking confirmation for tonight at 7.30.

“Why do I need a table for two at my favourite restaurant?” You asked. “And why is the reservation under your name?”

“Well, urm” he mumbled rubbing the back of his neck “I was hoping you’d join me for dinner tonight”

“Wait, are you asking me out as a long associate or on a date?” You questioned as your heart sped up.

“A date” he nodded.

“What about Donna?” You sighed.

“I know what you are thinking Y/N but Donna was just helping me how to figure out how to tell you” Harvey said “so please say you will go to dinner with me, because I like you and I have done for a while now”

“Well in that case Harvey Reginald Specter” you smirked “I say yes but we are going in your Ferrari”

[skitter-kitter]

Silco’s Monster

summary: Silco has always been willing to do anything for Jinx. Dying was never off the table— and yet, he never saw it coming. Not from her, at least.

word count: 1313

cws: major character death, blood

Read it on AO3!

Vi’s terrified, stormy gaze bore into his own. Her fear resonated in the air. She didn’t know what Jinx would do— didn’t know if she would be a puddle of blood on the ground or leaving with her sister. That scared her.

It didn’t scare Silco.

He knew Jinx. He knew her favorite color; the way she smiled when he told her how much he loved her, the way she cried in those early months when he had to leave her. Silco knew what love looked like in her eyes.

Jinx’s eyes held none of that love, now. Years had passed, and her love had soured from devotion into mere respect. Respect was temporary. Love would get him out of this encounter alive.

(Did she love him? Had she ever loved him? Or, was it a decade-long con? Was it the cruelest joke she would ever tell? Or, was it a twist of fate? Put the father beside the sister. Who did she prefer? Who would she die for?

The sister who abandoned her or the man who took care of her for a decade?)

Once, Silco would have killed for respect.

Now, he would die for it.

The ropes were tight around his torso. With each breath, he could feel his ribs protesting. A touch too tight, darling, he’d said, so many years ago. When she was fifteen, he taught her to tie these knots. To twist and loop the rope until she had none left. Silco taught her the victim’s discomfort shouldn’t matter to her. That no one else should ever matter to her. 

Only he should matter. Only her own safety should matter.

And yet, here they were— sat opposite each other with a feast of their mistakes. With Jinx as the executioner. With Jinx as the main course.

She wouldn’t even look at him. Her gaze was reserved for Vi’s eyes only. 

He found himself mourning the familiar blue. Once, Silco could look into her eyes and remember his remaking. Of hands, tugging him under the water. Of the blood and the tears and the agony.

Now, all he could see was violet. Now, all he could see were his mistakes.

All Silco saw was Jinx, and the traumatized little girl he had killed.

Jinx would normally tell him if he fucked up,— would tell him over and over and over until he snapped at her and apologized and then it would happen again and again— but if he had been wrong since the start… then she wouldn’t have known better, would she? She was a child. She was still Powder— a little girl who jinxed every job she was given.

If he had messed even that up, then maybe he deserved this. Maybe, he deserved to be dunked into the water again. Maybe, Silco deserved to die for his sins.

He deserved to die for what he’d done to his daughter.

(His perfect, perfect Jinx.)

Jinx would set the world aflame for her family, but did she consider Silco a part of her family? Had those years meant nothing to her? Had she forgotten the sacrifices he made so easily?

Had he failed to instill the same conviction in her? Had he failed her?

Silco brought her to the lakes and the oceans that had remade him. He’d taught her of the way her father had hurt him. Maybe, that was it. Maybe, she still cared for the memory of her old family.

The memory of Vander— the memory of Vi— was Jinx’s weakness. No, Silco corrected himself. They were Powder’s weakness. Jinx was strong. Jinx was his daughter.

Jinx was his everything. His empire, his family, and his legacy all in one.

He had known since that very first hug she would be a monster. Silco’s monster. Though, he wondered, if he gave her love and a name and a home, would he end up the Frankenstein of this story?

Would he be the creator, hunted by his beloved creation? Killed by it?

(Killed by her?)

Or, would she choose him over her sister? Would she choose a decade of love over a decade of abandonment?

Or… she could choose neither. She could leave them tied there for days, weeks. Leave them to starve. Leave them to linger in their lost love.

A desperate, broken part of Silco wanted her to leave them. He wanted to look in Vi’s teary eyes and say “you abandoned her.” He wanted to see the hatred and the guilt that would cross her face. He wanted to see her cry.

Cry for the little girl she’d abandoned. Cry for her dead sister. Cry for Jinx.

But, no matter what Jinx chose, Silco knew he would love her. He would always love her— his perfect Frankenstein, his perfect Jinx. Even if she didn’t love him,— even if she killed him— Silco would bear the pain. For her. For her love, her life, and her happiness— he would die.

Realization crashed over him like a cold wave. Like the ocean, reaching up to drag him under again. 

(Just close your eyes. Relax… relax. Let go. Breathe in the water. Become one with it.)

Jinx was his weakness, just as Powder was Vi’s.

To anyone but her sister, Powder was dead, abandoned beside Vander’s corpse. Buried beside him. Silco had done his best to keep it that way, with every hushed conversation and kiss on the forehead. Every sacrifice and every night spent with her instead of politics.

It was all for this. All for his daughter. 

All for Jinx— the girl who he remade in the waves, the girl who was too much like him. Silco held her under the waves, once. Pushed her deeper and deeper until she struggled. Until she went still. Until air came up— and the woman who resurfaced was not the scared little girl who cried against his chest.

Powder drowned in that lake. Jinx was born in his arms.

And, still, she refused to look at him.

(Like father, like daughter.)

It wasn’t until her choice was made— how long had it been made? How long had she been loyal to Vi? Seconds? Days? Years?— that her eyes met his. The sickly sweet fuchsia of Shimmer burning in her eyes.

Silco smiled. She grimaced, looking away for a split second before returning her attention to him. What did she see? A twisted man accepting his execution? A father, accepting his death? Or, did she see him as he was?

Did she see his exhaustion? His worry? 

Did Jinx even care?

Her finger lingered on the trigger. Silco let his eyes lower to stare at the gun. His smile didn’t waver.

“I lo—”

She shot him before he could finish. Before the bullet pierced his skin, Silco had already forgiven her. Before the pain registered, she had already run to his arms.

He smiled as she burrowed her face in his chest. Like this, he could almost pretend things were okay. Like this, he could ignore the pain and focus on her. 

Red bled through his clothes. It’ll stain, Silco thought. It’ll stain, and Sevika will harp about it for days.

“I’m sorry,” Jinx whispered. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” It was a mantra, now. Like so many before it, he would let it run its course. 

(She left me.)

(We will show them all.)

(You’re perfect.)

In the corners of his vision, he watched the darkness creep in. He listened to his daughter’s mantra— the last words he would ever hear her say. God, wasn’t that horrifying?

What would his final words be? His final message to an uncaring world? A goodbye to his daughter? A final warning to Vi?

How could he decide in the few moments he had left?

And yet— it was all-too easy.

“I love you, Jinx. I could… never hurt you.”

[secretbangtnn]

summary : Getting a letter from a very prestigious school was something that you could have never expect, and even more unexpected was that you didn’t need to pay a penny for it. Beautiful news that were too good to be true, but oh how stupid you were to not question such a perfect chance to get away from your shitty life.

notes:

Guys i would be more than happy for some feedback, its my first time writing in english and im more than nervous. Im not sure if what i wrote is good or even understandable. + i would be more than happy to start an ask game with this book

Chapter one

Living or in your case existing was always somehow calm. Everything you do had a plan and everyday had the same pattern, like a boring vase that stood in the same kitchen you actually were. Blue marble tiles awfully similar to tears that run down the woman's cheeks, making them a little bit more redder than before.

Not that they weren't that color before, always blushy and ready to be seen. And maybe that's why you had that sour taste in your mouth while watching them, knowing that your own were as beautifully red as hers.

"why?" a simple question sounding now like the last call for help. Voice groggy and nose runny making the sight before even more unbearable to look at. But why weren't you moved, why the tears didn't make you guality like they should. "you planned this?! You planned to leave me alone like a selfish bastard!"

Looking down didn't seem like the best option, knowing that it could just take the nerves in the room to a whole new level but you could not stop yourself. She was always one to guilt trip you into everything.

A little shout left the chapped mouth making you jump a little while lifting your head simultaneously. Sight before you seems to worsen and as you took a step back the woman took another two in the end catching your small wrist in her clawed hand.

Hissing and looking dead in her eyes made you somehow more conscious of the whole situation.

“I didn’t know.” and you really did not. Gritting your teeth so hard that it felt like some of them could fall out at any moment seems to stop you from doing sudden movements.

Breathe in and breathe out.

“Of course you think I am stupid! Just like your father, bringing me to insanity step by step. But that’s what you wanted from the beginning, am I right?”

“Stop being delusional mom” Oh how hard it was to say the name of that woman. Mother of child that she forgets most of the time, only to remember at the most shitty time. Today was exactly one of the examples of why your dream was just to wake up not seeing or better not having to think of that woman.

“Am i now? It’s you who wants me like this.” She laughed, throwing her head back in the motion. Elegant column of her neck now easy to see, showing purple and red marks similar to those from claws. “You thought I would not know, you thought you could just run away like a scared little child. Now tell me, how long were you planning this o-or maybe it was your father’s plan from the beginning.”

“I didn’t know about it, I didn’t even apply to any of the schools and you are the one that should know that.” toxicity leaked from your voice in big streams, but it was something that u could not stop at that moment. She was doing it again, acting crazy and psycho making everyone question why she wasnt getting hospital help yet.

“So you are saying that it’s my fault? You were supposed to care for me, for your ill mother, not that you are useful for anything else. How could you even think of disappearing, going to school so far away and leaving me to rot here myself like you were not meant to end like this too!”

Snatching your hand you looked at the woman once again, tears in eyes making you look fragile. Her own body looking weak, nearly dead limbs hanging from a malnourished body, showing the world wrack of a woman she was. Complexion ill looking, but what was not in her case, pale looking with green, purple and blue spots everywhere the skin was shown.

“Why are you being so shocked? Don’t tell me you thought you were going to leave someday.” Her laugh made you grit your teeth, jaw starting to hurt from the tension you were keeping. “Once again you showed how foolish you are, just like your father, just like that scumbag.”

“You are insane.”

“That we already know, so why don’t you come back to your room and start preparing for tomorrow. I want to eat a really nice breakfast next morning and maybe then after we can talk about what job you are going to have to make a living for us.”

And that was your sign to go, not looking back at the sick smirk on your mother mouth momocking your whole being. Step by step you saw the old stairs, in some place missing the color. Your room was nothing special, at least that what people said, for you it was some type of heaven. Peace that you could only catch while being there, laying on your old bed while looking at the dull ceiling.

Closing the door, you exchaled a heavy breath, sliding down on the flat surface of the door. Eyes closed like you have always done after an intense situation, today was not an exception to that.

Asking yourself what just happened, how and why. Unconsciously you looked at the letter beside you, laying so weirdly on the piece of not carpeted floor. The big fault in a little piece of paper. It was funny how this thing made such a bad influence on your life just by arriving on your doorstep.

The fact that the only person you could compare yourself to now is a story character of the name Harry was nearly not as funny as it sounded. However how u can explain getting a letter from a prestigious school you for sure did not apply or even looked up not even thinking about getting a scholarship to having a chance to think about it.

By any chance you were not stupid, but your ambitions flew away with another day in this shit hole you called home. Main reason being your own mother, which not only made it clear but for sure would kill you faster than let you leave.

You took the letter, keeping it in your hand like some unknown object you have never seen before. The texture itself is weird, making you shiver in some way. Big letter stood on the black piece of paper meaning only one thing.

Oh yes, that definitely was unsetting.

You remember clearly the first time you read the words that were put in this blank envelope. Big chance waiting for you, welcoming you with big arms and assuring you that you have nothing to be scared of.

And maybe those words were the one that brought you to that situation. It was not even three hours after the fight with your mother. Sun long down now moon shining on your pale face. Packing everything you tried to be quiet and quick hoping that your mother again ate too much of those big pills.

Big bag now laying down on your bed with a small letter beside it looking as innocent as before. You were not even seventeen making decisions that would cost you more then you can imagine. Living hell with possibility of going to another but in that moment nothing mattered like running away from old monsters.

Floor cracked under your feet even thought you were considered as a lightweight. How could you not be so malnourished when your mother forced you to teach yourself how to cook, never letting you eat before her. You tried to reason her moods or harsh behaviour to you but no matter how many times you tried it always ended in another reason why your life was just simply sad.

Running away was a good decision. You tried to say it so many times to actually believe in those empty words. The truth was that you were an innocent little child, not even a full adult that has never tasted a social life or had a friend.

“It will be alright.” Taste on your tongue after saying this a little sour with a heavy backpack danglin on your right arm. One step and then another, you touched the cold handle of your white doors. It was the first move to make and probably one of the hardest.

Bag on your arm is even more heavy making you realise what is happening. Silent breath flowed past your lips preparing you for your next step.

You pushed it closing it carefully while hoping that the oldish touch to the wood wont make an appearance in a loud noise. Silly smile now seen on your face with big relief in the back of your mind. The hardest part was just before you.

Your mothers room, not fully closed - like always, she needed to make sure nobody would come uninvited. It was just one of her weird characteristics that came with such a messed up mental health.

Small noise came out under your feet, not loud enough to wake up the woman next door but audible enough to be heard from closer.

Photos all around you telling you that you were getting near the main door. Little pictures with you inside faded from ears of hanging, making you stop for a while.

Smooth glass now under your fingers as you touch a specific photo. You and your mother being in the green garden of your grandmas. Happy vibe and pretty smiles now nearly unbelievable to witness on either of faces. It hurted or maybe it was just the adrenaline escaping from a sudden stop.

Oh how the sweet monet was quickly destroyed by the harsh noise from one of the rooms, and you exactly know which one. Loud thud rang out in the quietness of the house, making the silence even more noticable. Your breath escaped leaving you in a big ball of nerves and anxiety.

One...two...three

Silence like the one before big storms but maybe just this time it was not that. You couldn't withdraw now, you were too far and too close to the feeling of freeness. So you did the only thing that came to your mind.

Catching a sliding backpack, you turned to the door in front of you, knowing that just behind them is waiting something so much bigger than your old mother. How stupid for you to not rethink your decision, and believing your innocent mind that its just a good thing, better life that could only make you happier.

So you did it, you took the heavy steps that echoed in the narrow corridor. Light breeze touched your face, and just like the first time you gasped at the feeling. Door closing not that gently as you started running as fast as you could.

Silly smile now on your face with a bouncing bag on your shoulders keeping you on the hard ground. It was feeling similar to the first sight of the ocean or the first taste of sweet ice cream on a hot summery morning. You were in ecstasy choked by the overwhelming emotions.

And maybe because of that you were completely unaware of the danger that waited for you on that chilly night. How could you think about it when everything seemed so distracting almost as you were dreaming and in that moment you probably were closer to believing in this being a slumber.

So as you sat on the cold bench of one of the parks near your home, realization finally came silencing your beating heart. Colder weather now felt more real, as it bit your rosy cheeks. You shivered, keeping your backpack on your lap, trying to hide behind it from a chilly wind that seemed like it came from every side.

Being alone hit you like a truck and the little noises of the night didn't help your rising nerver. You started to lose your breath, feeling your tears sliding down your numb cheeks. It was terrifying now with the knowledge of your wellbeing and adrenaline wearing off with every second.

“Mom?” A silent plea that came out of your lips with shakiness that was more than noticeable. You didn't know why you said that, but the woman was probably the only person you knew. Such a sad truth that you needed to understand. You were alone now, and with that thought a more shameless sobs left your mouth with an occasional whimper.

You were sure you were going to end up dead. That you won't see the new sunset with how your body shivered. Not knowing how life worked or what is bad or good you were a little lamb that waited for hungry wolves to eat her whole.

And maybe one of those predators just saw his next meal. Long strides brought him just in front of you. Your sobs are too loud to make you hear his boots coming closer and closer. His breath just centimeters away from your head, brushing your hair like the not forgotten wind.

“Sweetheart?” It was a calming voice, not too deep but definitely belonging to a grown man. Your posture momentaly stiffened, as your closed eyes now looked at the big leather shoes before you. Your whole body is not moving, only shivering because of the chilly weather and light clothes. It was funny how suddenly you have forgotten about being alone, now wanting just this, wishing for all of this to be a big nightmare.

A deep sight left man's lips reminding you about the realness of the whole situation. You could not move, completely scared, your fingers clutched the bad praying for something to happen. The plan to just act like you were not there, ignoring the man fastly ended, when he sighted once again and crouched just to your eye level.

Deep brown eyes, looking at you with nothing but softness. If you didn’t know better you would say the man looked as if he knew you, cared and was in big relief finding you. But your mother's words echoed in your head, making you believe that every man walking on this planet is bad.

“What are you doing here sweetheart?” Once more this deep voice pierced you. Your mouth opens to answer, deeply knowing that nothing will come out. You just looked in his dark eyes, wishing that maybe he will be the one who can read minds. His eyes now on you, more concerned than before, observing your shivering body.

He was tall and broad for sure, towering over your figure surprisingly even while crouching down. His huge shoulders covered by a creamy coat which now was getting dirty by laying down on a pavement, as it partly hid his expensive looking boots.

Too distracted you didn't notice his hand coming to touch your red cheek, now gently stroking the redness of your skin.

“What a poor soul, so cold and left alone without a coat. Tell me sweetheart would you come and let me warm you a little?”

[samsexualdeancurious]

Set Sail | Chapter Two (NSFW) (FIN)

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Words: 2,167

Summary: Sam and Y/N go on a couples cruise for a case. The only issue? There's actually no case - thank you, Dean Winchester - and they're not actually a couple. Yet.

Warnings: Fluff, light smut in Chapter Two

Written for an Archangel patron's request.

---

Amanda’s plan starts simply enough - share the bed and see what happens. Your stomach does a little flip at the thought but you think you can manage that.

You and Sam decide to pass the day with Amanda and Henry. They seem more familiar with the workings of the ship and cruises in general, which is nice because you have no fucking clue what to expect. Plus, the two of them are easy to be around.

It’s refreshing, honestly, to talk to people who don’t know about the supernatural and have no reason to ever bring it up. You pull out a few of your go-to jobs when it comes up - contractor for Sam, accountant for you. Easy, boring, and no one asks too many questions. Usually. Henry wants some advice on a home project he’s been doing and you’re surprised at how knowledgeable Sam is on the subject. You know Dean worked construction when Sam was in Hell, forever and ever ago, but you had no idea that Sam was equally capable.

You can’t help watching those long-fingered hands as Sam gestures about whatever it is he explaining over the dinner table and think about all the other things they’re capable of doing. You’ve seen Sam handle everything from monsters to crying family members to guns to puppies with those same hands. They’re just like the man himself - strong, yet capable of incredible gentleness. Warmth blossoms in your chest at the thought.

You tear your eyes away from Sam’s hands to find Amanda watching you with a knowing smirk and feel your cheeks burn. Thankfully, Sam doesn’t notice. He may be a really smart man but he’s also more than a little oblivious most days.

Hopefully, he’s not too oblivious.

After dinner, the four of you go back out on the deck for a few evening drinks. The view is gorgeous and you’ve seen some great views. There’s no land in sight but the stars. You’ve only seen that many stars in a few places before but there’s nothing quite like the way they reflect off the smooth surface of the ocean, the thick line of the Milky Way only broken when the breeze ruffles the water.

“Maybe this whole thing isn’t so bad,” you whisper to Sam, letting Amanda and Henry get ahead of you as they beeline towards a set of couches that look like they’ll have a good view of the water.

Sam murmurs his agreement. He’d offered you his arm when you left the dinner table and you’d looped your own through it without thinking. Now, you look up to find that his eyes aren’t on the view at all. They’re on you.

As soon as you lock eyes with him, though, Sam looks away. His cheeks are adorably pink in the low lighting.

Huh. Amanda had been very sure of herself earlier but there was still a part of you that didn’t believe her. Maybe she was right.

--

The two of you don’t actually get back to your room until near midnight. You’re both a little tipsy, leaning on each other as Sam fumbles with the key card. He’s smiling, lighter than you’ve seen in months, and has one arm slung casually around your shoulders. Your own arm is fitted around his waist, both to hold yourself up and to keep him balanced. It’s not an ideal situation, with Sam being so large, but you make it work.

The room is exactly as you left it and a wave of exhaustion hits you as soon as the bed comes into view. You stumble forward, dragging Sam along with you, and then let go of him to get your shoes off.

“I’ll take the couch,” Sam says, an echo of his statement from earlier, and he looks surprised when you shake your head.

“It’s a king,” you reply, sinking to the floor because there’s no way you can get the tiny buckle on your heels done while using one hand to steady yourself against the wall. “We can share.”

“You’re sure?” Sam asks, toeing off his own shoes before filling two glasses of water from the bathroom sink. He downs one glass, helps you up with his now-free hand, and then gives you the other. “We don’t have to.”

“I know. I don’t mind. It’s a week-long trip, Sam. I’m not making you sleep on that tiny couch for a week when there’s plenty of room for two in the bed.” You drink some of the water while rummaging in your chosen drawer for some PJs. You’d packed in a hurry and are more than a little embarrassed to find that you only brought one of your oversized nightshirts. It’s not like Sam hasn’t seen you in them before but still.

“If you’re really okay with it.” Sam refills his glass of water and sets it on the nightstand closest to the door. “You can have the bathroom first.”

The two of you get changed for bed, Sam out in the bedroom and you behind the closed bathroom door. The light buzz from the drinks you had is fading by the time you’re finally ready for bed and you’re feeling much more nervous about sharing a bed with Sam. It’s not like you haven’t slept in close quarters before - the backseat of the Impala or, on one memorable occasion, the tiniest tent on the planet where all three of you had been more than a little squished - but those times were different. This situation is different.

Your feelings are different.

As you lay side-by-side with Sam in the dark, just listening to him breathe, you can’t help but wonder when your feelings for him changed. You can’t pinpoint an exact moment, no matter how hard you think about it, but you know it happened. One day, Sam was just your best friend, and the next… well, he’s still your best friend. The best friend you’ve ever had, really. Except maybe Linda way back in high school and fuck. You haven’t thought about Linda in years. You should see about checking up on her. Maybe she and Mark finally got their heads out of their asses and got married. What would she think if she could see you now? What would she say?

As you turn your head to see Sam lying next to you, breathing slow and even, that gorgeous profile highlighted by moonlight trickling through a crack in the curtains, you can almost hear her voice in your head.

“You’re both idiots.”

She was never good at listening to her own advice.

--

You don’t remember falling asleep but you must have because you wake up snuggled against solid warmth, nose pressed to sleep-warm skin. You yawn and sigh and stretch your legs, rolling your ankles. Your pillow makes a soft grumbling sound and you feel an arm tighten around your waist.

Oh, shit.

You open your eyes, blinking against the sunlight peeking through the curtains. Sam sighs, chest rising and falling under your head as he does, and your cheeks burn as you realize exactly what’s going on. You were cuddling with Sam in your sleep.

Your mind races with possibilities. Yes, you’d agreed to Amanda’s idea of sharing a bed but you hadn’t really… considered the possibilities of what would happen after that point. Amanda had implied something more than cuddling with a wiggle of her eyebrows that had your cheeks burning as you rolled your eyes but you’re not sure if that’s going to be in the cards.

After a moment of consideration, you make the decision to at least get up and go to the bathroom. Your head isn’t hurting too bad and your stomach feels surprisingly okay, considering how rough your first day on the ship was. Your bladder, on the other hand, is making itself known.

When you try to move, though, Sam’s arm tightens around your body. You freeze and hear Sam chuckle softly.

“Mornin’,” he rumbles, voice low and husky with sleep.

“Hi,” is all you can muster in response as you lift your head to find him watching you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“I don’t mind,” Sam interrupts. “I really don’t mind, as long as you don’t.”

Words fail you at that and you stare at him for a second, processing what he just said. Unfortunately, you hesitate just long enough for Sam’s expression to shift to one of doubt. His grip on you loosens.

“If you don’t-”

You shake your head, stopping him in his tracks. “I do,” you say, reaching up to trace the line of his jaw with your fingertips. “I do. Really. I just also need to pee.”

Sam blinks at you, a little stunned, and then laughs. “All right, then.”

“I’ll come right back,” you promise.

He gives you a little nudge. “Okay.”

You make it quick and soon enough, you’re stepping back into the bedroom. You hesitate on the edge of the bed and just look for a moment, taking in the sight before you.

Sam is beautiful. That’s something you’ve been fully aware of for a long time. But right now, with his fair mussed from sleep and a line from his pillow on his cheek, sunlight warm on his bare chest and arms… he’s absolutely stunning.

“Take a picture,” Sam teases, all dimples.

You laugh softly and crawl up onto the bed, fitting yourself into his embrace when he opens his arms to you. Sam makes a happy little sound as you settle against his chest again.

“I like this,” he murmurs, one hand coming up to settle between your shoulder blades. “I like this a lot.”

“I do, too,” you admit. And you do. It feels so natural, so right, to be pressed close to Sam with sheets tangled around your legs.

Sam tilts his head to meet your gaze and you can see the question in his eyes before he asks it. “Are we on the same page here?”

You rub your palm over his tattoo, the same one you have etched into the back of your shoulder inches from where his hand rests. “On the ‘we’re both idiots and it shouldn’t have taken an intervention from Dean Winchester to realize it’ page?”

Sam laughs, loud in the quiet room, and you giggle along with him. “Yeah,” he says when he’s caught his breath. “Yeah, that page.”

“Definitely.”

His smile softens at that and he brings his hand up to cradle your cheek in the curve of his palm. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Sam’s lips are soft against your own, his hand huge as it curls around the back of your head. You lift up, shifting higher on the bed so Sam doesn’t have to crane his neck to kiss you.

“Why the hell did we wait so long to do this?” Sam wonders, short nails scratching gently against your scalp and sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

“Because we’re idiots,” you reply with a soft laugh, grinning when he chuckles. You glance over at the clock. 8:30. Breakfast goes until 10:30, you know. You remember because you were surprised by that late hour when you saw it on the schedule, being used to either hotels that only serve it until 9 or motels that don’t serve breakfast at all. Plenty of time for at least some kissing. Maybe a little more than that, if Sam’s feeling up to it.

“We are,” he agrees and then he pulls you to straddle his hips. You make a surprised sound at the move and brace yourself with your elbows on either side of his head. “This okay?”

“Very,” you assure him and Sam pulls you down into another kiss.

Things escalate quickly from there. Your nightshirt is pushed up and off, Sam’s pajama pants are shoved down along with the blankets. Skillful fingers find their way between your thighs, pushing your panties aside and spreading your folds to find where you’re already slick.

“Sam,” you gasp, breaking the kiss when he slides his thumb over your clit.

“I gotcha,” is his response, words spoken in a low tone that sends a shiver up your spine. “Gonna make you feel good, sweetheart.” He tips his chin up to catch your lips in a messy kiss. “Gotta catch up for lost time, right?”

You laugh against his mouth and nod, grinding your hips down against his hand. You can feel his cock, hard and hot against your thigh, and just the knowledge that he’s as turned on as you are has your body clenching around his fingers. “Sounds like a good plan to me.”

It is a good plan. It’s a very, very good plan. When the two of you eventually make it down to breakfast, you’ll have to let Amanda know that her plan was also a very good one. For now, though, your focus is on the gorgeous man beneath you in the bed.

You may also have to thank Dean later.

—

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—

Team Forever: @mrswhozeewhatsis @manawhaat @books-and-icecream @laughing-at-the-darkness @tumbler-tidbits @emoryhemsworth @imsuperawkward @onethirstyunicorn

[ambertea]

clever

Read on AO3

She’s six years old and she’s just won a certificate for Maths.

Her mum’s sitting at the back of the assembly, exchanging whispers to the single dad sitting next to her. Rose keeps looking back, trying to catch her eye, but instead watches her mother’s hand sneaking up a strange man’s thigh.

The headmaster smiles at her strangely, in a way she will later define as ‘condescending’ but in the moment she can’t wrap her head around.

“Well done, you clever girl.” He says, and Rose hates it. His clammy hand engulfs hers and Rose just blinks as he shakes it up and down.

The school claps dutifully and her mum is still not looking at her.

She’s eleven years old and she hates everyone in her class. They tease her in the playground, mock her in the classroom and the only safe haven is the tiny library. The librarian is old and odd, and she strokes Rose’s hair like she’s nothing more than a tiny doll.

“Don’t try so hard to be clever,” she tells her. “They’ll leave you alone.”

Rose leaves the library and never comes back.

She’s fifteen years old and GCSEs are utter bullocks. Mickey has already failed them all, already told her they don’t matter in the real world. She stays behind after school to sit in empty classrooms to figure out algebra and tells her mum she still does gymnastics.

She gets her results in a thick brown envelope and takes a quick glance at a long list of A’s before she chucks it in the bin.

“Pure shit.” She tells her mum. “Didn’t even try, anyway. I’m just not clever enough.”

Her mum throws her a party regardless, and Rose ignores the ache in her chest.

She’s seventeen and he’s fucking hot.

She’s told her mum she’s doing A-levels because she hasn’t figured out if she wants to do hairdressing or childcare. Instead, she doodles equations on the back of English papers whilst she waits for everyone else to finish.

She meets Jimmy outside the school gates and he’s smoking cigarettes and the smell gets right into the back of her throat. She tells him that it’s bad for him, and he tells her he could be bad for her. He’s right.

She drops out of school and her mother approves because it was giving her airs and graces. What her mother does not approve of is the filthy bedsit she moves into, where she cries as her boyfriend screams at her.

“You think you’re clever, do you?” he yells, and she shakes her head and whispers no, no, never.

She’s nineteen, fucking shop window dummies are after her, and a strange man is standing with her in the lift.

“’Cos to get that many people dressed up and being silly, they got to be students.”

“Good point. Well done.”

She’s wrong, but the praise bounces around her brain.

She runs off with him because apparently, that’s just what she does. Runs off with charismatic men, leaves her mother worried sick, because she is Rose, and Rose is not clever.

This man, however, is no Jimmy. He’s smart – so smart, any small attempts at intelligence still leave her feeling dumb. This is a comfort. She argues with him, thinks around him, and starts to feel a bit better about herself.

He’s sweet as well, and kind, and doesn't care when she asks too many questions. He shows her how to strip wires and repair parts of his precious ship, and they tinker away together in comfortable silences. Now and then, she properly impresses him, and he ignores the beauties of the universe and beams at her instead. It’s strange and wonderful and she tries her best not to disappoint him.

Then she is sent away, he is trapped, and it’s time for her to use her bloody brains only she’s not sure they even work anymore. He is dying, far in the future, but still dying, and she is watching her mum scoff down chips. She doesn’t want to go back to her old life, doesn’t want to play stupid anymore.

“Why, because you’re better than us?”

No, because she has learned what life is like when she tries, and she is not yet ready to stop.

She makes it back, using her brain and a fucking massive truck, and it is worth it if just for the way he is looking at her. He tells her she is fantastic and then explodes into a whole new man, with a lankier frame and wilder hair. He takes a long nap, and she is left to be useless once more.

She stands up in front of actual, breathing monsters and tries to copy words she’s heard, but her voice shakes, and her hands are trembling. They laugh at her, and she is eleven again, being teased by the nasty girls in her class.

He saves the day, because that’s just what he does, and she runs off with him again because his smile is still kind and their hands fit nicely. Cassandra sits inside her brain and hums with curiosity, poking around her mind like it’s a mildly interesting boutique.

“Not as thick as you seem, are you?” She whispers into Rose’s mind.

She’s inside some sort of spaceship and he is gushing over the accomplishments of Reinette de Pompadour. She already knows all this, knows who she is, but he is enjoying the sound of his own voice, so she keeps quiet.

She watches him carefully, notices the lipstick marks around his face and the ridiculous angle of his collar, and stamps down the familiar feelings of jealousy rising within her chest.

It had felt like they were growing closer. Their hugs had been lingering, hands held tightly at any available moment. She had thought something was growing, something small and precious and good. Clearly, she was wrong.

Reinette dies, and Rose isn’t glad, not really, but she watches him carefully afterward and wonders. Wonders why he keeps her around if he even wants her there. She tries to ask, but the words die on her tongue.

She has almost let the feeling go when she meets her father, a man who does not know her and apparently does not care to. She calls him dad and he runs, leaving her crying and shaking and so very vulnerable. She wonders, afterward, why. Why no one has ever wanted her properly, why it feels like no one has even met her in the first place. She sobs into her mum’s shoulder and wishes she had told her about the GCSE results.

Maybe it’s a good thing, she thinks later, that she’s alone. She has no real connections that make her want to stay at home, no real relationships that don’t leave her mentally exhausted. He is her grounding point, her focus, and he doesn’t think she’s stupid, not really, but he doesn’t think she’s clever either.

She knows she loves him; knows she will spend the rest of her life pining for him. It aches, having so much unspent emotion coursing under her skin. Feels like she could explode and implode simultaneously. But his eyes are so soft, and he is so worth it.

“We’ll always be alright, me and you.” She tells him. He just stares into the sky glumly.

“There’s a storm approaching.”

She hopes for a bit of rain but instead gets a fucking earthquake.

She’s twenty-one, she’s in a different universe, and she’s absolutely fine.

“How are you doing?”

“Are you okay?”

“Speak to me, Rose, please.”

She doesn’t speak to anyone. Doesn’t even look in the mirror.

It’s hard to assign blame on a talking pepper pot, so instead, she blames herself. If she’d been stronger. Tried harder. Been cleverer.

She tells her mum this over a bottle of wine, and she just laughs.

“People like us aren’t clever, Rose. We’re survivors.”

She doesn’t want to be a survivor anymore.

She starts working at Torchwood. Starts sleeping at Torchwood as well. Pete gives her the job out of pity but is quickly astonished by the scale of the work she’s doing.

“You’re brilliant.” He tells her one night. Jackie scoffs.

“Brilliant? Hark at her.”

Rose ignores her. It doesn’t matter.

She sits through A-levels, and then university lectures, and then physics conventions with groups of boring boys who follow her like a bizarre squadron. She has a brother now, a tiny boy with eyes just like hers, and when she tucks him into bed, she whispers stories of the stars.

She creates a dimension cannon and brings it home to show Pete. He marvels over it whilst Jackie sniffs like she’s got a nasty cold.

“Just glorified jewelry. Face it, sweetheart. You’re stuck here with the rest of us. It’s time to get used to it.”

“Shut up,” Rose says, and she can feel her pulse banging away in her ears like a marching parade.

Jackie is spluttering, Pete’s eyes are wide, and Rose isn’t quite sure what she’s doing but she’s doing it anyway.

“I can do this. I am going to do this. So just shut up.”

She does do it. She flits around universes like students backpack around Europe, and it’s strangely healing to spend so much time by herself.

She meets tiny aliens made of glass who kiss through the refractions of light and hugs ginormous bear-like creatures who are surprisingly friendly and incredibly soft.

She searches for him, and it hurts and it’s hard but it’s also fantastic.

She gets through finally to a universe that should be right but is oh so very wrong. A red-haired woman screams at her, and Rose is finding it difficult to breathe.

“I'm nothing special. I'm a temp. I'm not even that. I'm nothing.”

“Donna Noble, you are the most important woman in the whole of creation!”

“Oh, don't. Just don't.”

She tells her mum about her GCSE results because she can’t stop thinking about it. Her mum stares at her for a long while and then looks down at her hands. Rose has never seen her mum speechless before, doesn’t like it, so she just nods and leaves.

She finds him, and the feeling rushes right from her toes to the top of her head. She has done it. After all the effort and pain, she has found him, and the uncurling pride is like nothing she’s ever felt before.

He gets shot and utterly ruins it, but the feeling lingers.

Her mum shows up at the worst possible time, but she is there, and she is looking at Rose so fiercely. When the situation calms down and they are safe, she pulls Rose into a tight hug and rubs her hands in circles across the small of her back.

“I’m so proud of you, sweetheart.” She whispers, and Rose quickly wipes her eyes on her shoulders.

She is dumped on the same beach she has had nightmares about for the last five years. She is left again, but this time she is left with a familiar man who whispers promises into her ear and holds her like she is something important.

He is looking at her like he’s hoping she might lead the way, and she knows how to do this now, knows how to think and plan and strategize. She kisses him on the cheek, watches the blush that spreads across his cheek, takes his hand, and leads him back to England.

She doesn’t take him straight back to the mansion, hates the idea of speech and silence in equal measure. Instead, she takes him to her lab, and he stares at her designs through startled eyes and stolen glasses. She fidgets in the corner of the room, and wraps her arms around her waist, waiting for his verdict.

He turns to her, whips the glasses off of his face and a look of quiet wonder spreads across his face.

“You’re brilliant.”

She squirms under his gaze, picks off an invisible bit of fluff from her jacket. He is still looking at her, and she tries her best to smile.

“Thanks.”

“No, seriously. These are so impressive.”

She’s still not sure what to do with the praise, but it warms her and fills all the cracked pieces of her soul with new and growing tissue. She kisses him, both because she’s not sure what else to do, and because she can, and he smiles against her lips. They break apart and he runs his fingers over her work, his eyes soft and curious.

“How did you do this?” He whispers, and something tender and precious burns gently in her chest.

“I guess I’m just clever.”

[jungc6ck]

Super (JJK x reader) Pt.1

🔥 Pairing: superhero/soulmate Jungkook x superhero/soulmate reader

💧Genre: superhero au, soulmate au, smut, angst

🔥 Rating: R (18+)

💧Summary: Jungkook was born as one of the lucky few to possess superpowers, so were you. He’s looked up to you ever since you’ve been fighting crime, so it makes perfect sense the universe would choose for you to be soulmates... unfortunately for him, you’re not even close to what everyone thinks you are. Behind that golden mask you wear is a less than golden person. Little does our clumsy and awkward hero know what you, this world, and the universe are about to put him through.

🔥Word count: 4k

💧 Warnings: cursing, violence, fighting, mention of sex and sexual acts and tiddies, future smut, future violence, future drinking problem, future mention of depression, future monsters (I’m just forewarning you that it’s going to get kind of dark)

“Hey! Pee-boy, wake up!”

Jungkook let out a little groan at the voice, letting it know he didn't appreciate the name-calling or being woken up.

“Jungkook” the voice now got growly and agitated.

Jungkook knew the voice, he just was too tired to respond.

“Get up!”

“How did you get in my room?” Jungkook muttered with his eyes still closed as he tried to roll over to escape Jimin’s nagging. His body rolled into unsupported nothingness and within a fraction of a second, his heart was racing right before his body made a collision with the cold wood floor. He knew he might as well wake up now.

Jimin cackled maniacally at the boy groaning in frustration and pain on the floor with his eyes now squinting open and looking up at his friend who sat in the chair at his desk beside the head of his bed.

“Your parents let me in.”

The only response the boy had was a sigh

“You know, because you’re twenty-three and still live with them… in their attic. To be honest it’s not even a cool lair.”

Jungkook finally sat up off of the floor and saw the neatly folded cloth Jimin had in his lap.

“Oh, this is for you. You should try it on.” He offered the fabric out to him.

Jungkook took it from him as he sat on the floor with his back against his bed and held it up the best he could to get a good look at it.

The spandex-looking material was a swirl of deep blue and silver reminding him of ocean waves at night.

“Thank you.” Jungkook gave his best friend a surprised but thankful smile before he went back to marveling at it.

“I can’t believe you made this, just for me.” He was astonished at his best friend’s talent.

“Well, you are my best friend… and a very special person. Oh! I almost forgot! The mask!”

Jimin reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a navy blue silicone rubbery object and tossed it to Jungkook. “It ties in the back with a thin string to match your hair but the inside of it is made of the gell stuff they use in push-up bras to keep them in place.”

Jimin sounded proud of himself but Jungkook couldn’t help but laugh until something dawned on him.

“Oh shit, what time is it?” Jungkook asked Jimin as his body froze up and mouth dropped open.

“Almost eleven-thirty.” His friend had pulled out his phone to check before replying.

“Shit! Work!” Jungkook jumped up and threw his new suit and mask on his bed before running over to his closet across the room.

“I’ll see you later, good luck today,” Jimin announced.

Jungkook had already grabbed a jacket and jeans and headed over to his friend now by the door to give him a quick hug and thank you, but accidentally and absentmindedly added a quick kiss to the side of his head which made Jimin laugh. Jungkook was in too much of a hurry to dwell on his mistake and too silly to take it back, plus Jimin had already left the room before he could even speak again. He grabbed a backpack and threw his new suit into it along with a few other things before leaving.

“Hell,” Jungkook mumbled to himself with an exasperated sigh as his shitty car refused to start for the third time. “Come on baby, you can do it.” He tried again “do it for me” with that, the noise of the engine roared to life, however it still sounded as though its life could end at any moment. “What a good girl.” Jungkook realized as he drove off the way he had been speaking to his car. He blushed a little to himself and was glad no one overheard it. He knew sometimes he could be a little oblivious to those things with never having sex even once in his life. Once a girl did let him feel her up though at her house while under the guise of studying back when he was in school. He had no idea she didn’t really invite him over to study for a science test, he didn’t even know when she was flirting with him until she got frustrated and asked him to kiss her and take off his shirt. Jungkook had gotten a little bored with it though and nervous around her and never went back over to her house. That couldn’t have been his soulmate, but sometimes he wonders if it had been since she had been the only girl to ever like him that he knew of.

He was twenty-three, lived with his parents, never went to college, never found his soulmate like everyone else has, and made pizza for a living. It wasn’t all that bad at least he was trying and at least he had a job. He was simply making due with what he was given in life and he was doing his best and that was what mattered… well that wasn’t exactly true… until recently.

He was given so much more than any average person, he had always just been too scared to use it or even tell anyone but his family and best friend. His best friend. Jimin had known him since they were both six years old. He was the first one to know about Jungkook’s powers and help him figure out everything he could do. A lot of the time he helped drive Jungkook and make him do what he needed to do and in return, he liked to listen to Jimin and help him solve problems in his life, or hear about his day. Jungkook knew he was lucky to have him as a friend, always supportive, always creative as a fashion designer should be, Jungkook felt lucky he didn’t ditch him a long time ago. Jimin was accomplished, on top of having a good job, he had found his soulmate already, a rich modeling agent named Taehyung.

Jungkook had asked Jimin before what it was like to meet him and he replied something along the lines of “when you meet your soulmate, you just know. It hits you hard, you both know the universe has put you together. It’s not just love, it’s something so much more, something… addicting.” He had also said he had seen Taehyung before in magazines and that Taehyung had seen him on tv, but nothing hit until they met in person.

Jungkook had always wondered if he even had one if he was meant for anyone at all especially with him being so different. His parents were soulmates, so were his grandparents. Everyone had one but maybe not him. Perhaps the universe had given him powers but no one to love.

He didn’t want to think about it so he turned up the radio as he drove slightly over the speed limit into the city where traffic seemed pretty bad today.

“Fire girl, what do you think of her? Who do you think she is?” A radio talk show that he was previously ignoring made his ears perk up at her name. He had been enamored with her for years now. Everything she did, every person she saved, everyone she fought, Jungkook had known about.

“I think she’s pretty, that’s for sure. As for who she is, I guess no one would ever know in a city this big, maybe if I came across her I would know. I’d know that bright red hair anywhere.” The second man said.

Jungkook couldn’t help but scoff. They wouldn’t know. Not only did she wear a mask but he knew that a person’s hair and eyes changed when they activated their powers. She most likely didn’t even have red hair or yellow eyes in her everyday life, just like his hair wasn’t blue and neither were his eyes. Jungkook was just plain Jungkook when he wasn’t using his powers. It was obvious to him that everyone didn’t know that.

“What if it’s a wig?” The first man asked the second.

“Who’s got time to put on one? Especially with that whole skin-tight outfit. Where do you think she gets dressed? How do you think she knows when and where the trouble is?”

“She could wear it under her normal clothes.”The first man decided and that struck Jungkook as a good idea. “As for how she knows about crime? Maybe she listens to a scanner on the same frequency as the police? Perhaps she even just watched the news. All I know is that our city is lucky to have her.”

“Ahh I’m not sure about that. I’ve heard people born with powers are pompous jerks who think they can get away with anything, a lot of people think that.”

Jungkook had heard that too growing up. There were people like him and fire girl all over the world, while there weren’t many, some always seemed to get into trouble. That’s what stopped Jungkook from trying to be a superhero until now. He was afraid of looking like a dick-bag, he was even afraid of becoming one. Although Jimin assured him he could never be, he was still scared of slipping up. While some people didn’t care for superheroes, some people loved them, especially children. He just didn’t want to disappoint anyone, he didn’t know if he was even good enough despite practicing in his backyard and taking taekwondo since he was a child. He wasn’t even comparable to fire girl.

As a child, he looked up to her, not just because she was pretty and cool, and could do so many things he couldn’t, not even because she had the exact opposite powers as he did. He looked up to her because she looked to be around his age, she made it all look so easy and she hadn’t been in any kind of scandal yet despite her five years as a public superhero. He thought maybe she was like him and that maybe she just wanted to do good in this world and not need the fame validation like some other heroes. Maybe she just wanted to help people like Jungkook did. He also thought that perhaps she might be grateful for some help.

This city was riddled with robberies, bad people, murderers, and just criminals in general, and even with knowing they would be stopped they all still tried for whatever reason. Jungkook also knew that the police in this town could be just as bad as the criminals and they were just as much egotistical jerks as some heroes were. Jungkook knew that just because you have power in any way didn’t mean you had to flaunt it and abuse it.

“She could be a terrible person, how would we know?”

Jungkook turned the radio off.

It was a hot summer day and working his butt off in a boiling kitchen with ovens going all day wasn’t what Jungook thought he would be doing when he was a child and imagined his future, although neither was using his superpowers and becoming a superhero. To be honest, he liked music, he liked to listen to it everywhere, at home, at work, even on his way to work and back. He had even gotten a guitar for his seventh birthday and spent years learning to play. He thought for sure he would be in some famous band by now and not just singing along to the radio while sweat-soaked his shirt in a pizza kitchen. His dreams weren’t what they were supposed to be, but he was fine with that, he was fine with thinking the universe would eventually just lead him to where he needed to be, and it was definitely about to.

There were ten minutes left of his shift, ten agonizing minutes where he was left alone to lock up the shop, finish cleaning up the place and turn the lights off. He was always left to close the shop alone, his boss trusted him to do it more so than the others, however, he still hadn’t made him a manager. The radio had been turned off and all that was left for background noise was the tv in the dining area that Jungkook let play on the news in hopes that he would see her on it as he swept the floor.

He didn’t unfortunately, but what he did see was live footage of a bank robbery that had turned into a stand-off with the police.

Jungkook froze and nearly dropped the broom in his hand as he watched the helicopter footage of the scene. The bank was close to him. He had his suit and mask in his backpack in the back, he could do this if he wanted to.

Adrenaline began to course through him at the thought. He bit his lip with his gaze on the tv as his options battled inside of him like violent crashing waves although he was calm on the outside. His eyes glanced at the clock on the wall. Eight minutes now until he could leave.

In an instant, he had made a decision. He took off running through the store, clocked out, and headed into the back where his backpack was.

He stripped down in the storeroom as his pulse hammered in his ears. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, but he knew he had to start sometime.

He felt odd being stripped down to his underwear at work while struggling to get his limbs in the tight, stretchy fabric with his hands shaking. He had gotten one foot in a leg hole but lost his balance and fell over onto the tile trying to get the other in. He decided that maybe getting dressed while laying on the floor was his best bet.

His hands still shook as he tied the back of his mask tightly around his head. He could feel the jelly-like side conforming to the curves of his upper face and wondered if this was how a boob felt in a push-up bra as he thought about what Jimin had said earlier.

“Okay.” he let out a shaky breath as he stood up from the floor “I’m not going to die today. I won’t die. Nope, not even once. I won’t die.” he chanted to himself hoping that implanting it in his brain would help him be safer while mustering courage. He let out a deep breath before he let his power wash over his body, knowing his hair and eyes just changed to blue.

“Let’s do this!” he said to himself with sureness and courage with clenched fists.

He locked up the shop, leaving his backpack with his clothes inside, and headed to his car just outside.

He had a fist full of keys, some for the store and some for his house and car. As he put his car key in the ignition and tried to start it, all of his courage died along with the engine.

“Balls!” he shouted as he smacked the steering wheel and tried again. The car simply wouldn’t start. “After I was so nice to you this morning?! Come on! I’m trying to be a superhero here!”

He tossed all the keys into the passenger seat and let the top of his head fall back into the headrest as he looked up at the roof of the car. He debated on giving up, but he decided against it. He could feel it, this was where the universe was leading him, today was his day.

The underwhelming but soon-to-be hero decided to briskly jog to the scene of the crime while people stared at him for the way he was dressed, cursing himself the entire way for being unable to fly.

Jungkook was met with a blocked-off street with police officers and cop cars scattered all over it. Jungkook hadn’t thought about how to get through the cops and into the bank. If he wasn’t going to get shot out here by the police for trying to get into a robbery, he would probably be killed by the robbers for simply just strolling in. The odds and his luck didn’t seem to be in his favor today.

“I’m a superhero, I should be able to just go on by them.” He told himself and decided to try it.

He walked past the roadblock but didn’t make it far.

“Hey, kid! Where do you think you’re going?!” Was shouted at him making him pick up the pace until he was at a full run for the bank door.

A lot of officers were shouting at him, but it was hard for him to understand them with the pleads in his head for them to not take him out, the noisy helicopter overhead, and the loudness of his heartbeat.

He almost crawled as he entered the glass doors of the bank as silently as he could.

It looked like Jungkook’s luck was turning around because not only were the masked robbers too busy stealing and yelling at people they had lying on the ground to see him, but they had their backs all turned to him. This was perfect.

Just as he raised a hand to do something one was suddenly knocked over making the other three robbers look in that direction.

Fire girl. She had dropped from seemingly nowhere and kicked one in the face before her feet even touched the floor.

There she was, in person, in action, and not just on tv. She now stood in the same room with him with her golden mask coving half of her face, her yellow eyes,doand bright red hair. Her skin-tight suit was a mix of yellow, orange, and gold. She was so unbelievably beautiful that he felt like it was melting his brain.

Before Jungkook could go into too many starstruck thoughts over it, his body told him to take action as gunfire began.

He raised his hand yet again and let a heavy and harsh stream hit one right in the back, knocking him forward so hard that his head hit the marble floor and the gun flew from his hand.

He had never done that to a person before, but his powers had done exactly what he wanted them to, just like always. For whatever reason, Jungkook was sure they would fail when the time came.

His heart raced as all eyes were on him now and his brain panicked with “holy shit, I’ really doing this”

“Who the hell are you?!”

The words didn’t come from anyone he was expecting, not a bank teller, not a civilian, not even a robber. It was fire girl who seemed lost.

Jungkook ignored it as he saw a gun now from one of the last two bank robbers being pointed in his direction.

Time seemed to slow as his body acted for him, getting low to the ground and holding out his hand for a powerful surge of water to release. It hit the man with the gun pointed at him directly in the face so hard Jungkook had thought it had broken his neck.

From his peripherals, he could see fire girl sweeping the legs of the last man and stepping on his neck.

And then there was silence.

Both he and the second hero collected the guns before Jungkook threw one of the robbers over his shoulder, then he went for a second one which he threw over his other one. Was he showing off his strength in front of a pretty girl? Yes. But it was working. She watched frozen for a moment as he took the two limp men over to the door and laid them in front of the glass for the police to see and gestured to them that everything was okay and that they could come in.

Dragging another robber across the floor and into the pile was fire girl.

Their eyes locked for just a moment and they both paused.

Jungkook was hit like an explosion, although it felt physical, he still stood frozen with his mouth dropped open. It felt like he had been shot but it wasn’t pain he had felt in his brain and chest, but with a powerful wave of ease and belonging. Although this feeling was new to him, there was a strange sense of deja vu about it as if he had lived and felt it before. His brain was in overload and began to shut down until nothing but static was left.

“Who are you?” She asked again but it was much much quieter.

Jungkook was at a complete loss for words.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” Her voice went bitter and cold as she now gave him a shitty look through with her yellow eyes drilling into him through her golden mask that covered the top half of her face.

Again, Jungkook didn’t speak.

“YOU COULD’VE DIED!! It was obvious you didn’t know what the hell you were doing!” She was now pointing her finger angrily right in his face so close he felt his eyes cross.

“You stay the hell out of it amateur! Don’t EVER get involved in something like this ever again when you have no training and no control over anything in this situation ESPECIALLY when you have no control over your powers! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?! You’re an idiot and you could've made this job so much harder for me!”

She yelled at him while all that Jungkook could think about was what the hell he was feeling and going through and how beautiful and powerful she looked when she was yelling at him.

“I-I-“ Jungkook was trying to muster the brainpower to speak “but everything was okay.”

He had been so lost in her that he didn’t even see it coming when he was tackled to the ground and his arms were forcefully bent behind his back.

A police officer was sitting on his back and applying cold metal handcuffs to his wrists.

“Ow ow ouch.” He winced at the crushing weight on his back and the bending of his arms which he thought might snap like the delicate bones of spicy chicken wings. He could see the feet of the hostages beginning to file out of the building, some in tears from their traumatic experience.

“Why am I being arrested?” he asked wondering why he was being treated like a bad guy when he had just saved people and why wasn’t fire girl being arrested as well.

He was pulled to his feet by the handcuffs and patted down.

“You were unauthorized to enter this building. You interfered with law enforcement.”

Jungkook wanted to tell the cop that law enforcement wasn’t even doing anything to assist in the situation anyway, but he knew that would be a bad move and didn’t want to make the situation any worse.

“Why isn’t she being arrested then?” he nodded his head towards the other hero.

“She’s fire girl. She’s a superhero.” the officer answered simply.

“TELL THEM!” Jungook begged her in desperation.

“Tell them what?” she crossed her arms and spoke with a sour tone.

“Tell them I helped.” he urged.

“But you didn’t.”

She was lying and they both knew it, however, the cop didn’t, and began to drag Jungkook away and out the door.

In the open, people swarmed. Onlookers, reporters, ambulances, fire trucks. Everyone was watching him get arrested as if he had robbed the bank himself.

He was stuck into the back of a cop car for far too long. He even got the chance to see flame erupt from fire girl’s feet and watched as she flew away. Was she a jerk like many other superheroes? Or did she just not want to see him get hurt? Jungkook chose to believe it was the second one. After all, his soulmate couldn’t be a lying jerk-bag, could she?

All rights reserved © 2020 - 2021 Jungc6ck No editing, copying, reposting, or translating allowed.

[nothing-but-dreamy]

ISEKAI

Pairing: FFXV! NYX ULRIC x GENDER NEUTRAL!READER

Words: 5.205

Warnings: none;

A/N: I'm sorry that this request took me so long. Mostly, because I really loved the idea. Therefore, I really hope you will like it. I had much fun to write it.

Summary: Because of a mysterious accident you land in Eos. Finding yourself in an unknown world, you're happy that you got help by someone. Nyx saves your life and quickly, he sees more in you than just a person who was in danger.

***

You were bored. Like, really bored. Your life was barely special before Corona had overtaken the world and now, with all the quarantines, restrictions and rules, the excitement was ... zero.

So, out of boredom, you started to clean your apartment. Every single corner. All of it. From your loudspeakers, random music was playing to cheer you up. Mostly soundtracks of everything you liked: Supernatural, Marvel, Dr Who, Game of Thrones, Lord of the Rings ... whatever there was in the gaming, movie or TV orbit drifting around, you probably liked it.

So, while you were humming with the latest tune of some triple A video game, you put the vacuum cleaner away to get a black cloth for a last task on your list before everything would be shiny again in your small apartment: the mirrors.

With slow, circling moves, you wiped over the reflecting surface. Your face was staring back at you. Mocking you. You and your boring life even without a pandemic. Sometimes, you even got the feeling of not being in the right place. That you should be somewhere else. That you belonged somewhere else. Where you would have friends and maybe even a partner…

Your eyes were taunting you. They reminded you of all the dreams you had in your youth. All the adventures you wanted to go on. All the exotic countries you wanted to visit. All the food you wanted to discover and yet, you were captured in a boring life, cleaning your apartment at 6 pm because you got nothing else better to do.

You looked into your own eyes, the cloth still touching the mirror as you whispered to yourself, "You know, it would be so great to be somewhere else. Just to be ... Away! Away! Away!"

***

"I hate these trips!", Libertus complained for the third time since they had passed the wall.

Nyx rolled with his eyes but stayed silent. He was still slowly polishing his blades. As he looked up, his eyes met the smirking expression of Pelna who thought the same as Nyx: 'cry-baby'

"Could you please shut up? Would you rather clean the training court instead?", Crowe asked, annoyed about Libertus' non stop whining.

"At least, it wouldn't be less dangerous.", Libertus argued, crossing his arms over his chest.

Crowe leant forward, supporting herself on her knees, "Oh, really? You remember the last time where we got charged with the cleaning task? Three barracks were burning, one was smoldering and the smell of smoke lingered in the Kingsglaive headquarters for three weeks.", she pointed out.

Libertus stretched out his arms as a question, "What? I just wanted to help and to dry everything faster!"

"Yes! With fire magic, god dammit! You're not the best with magic. At all. Just ... don't do that. This mission will be a bit ... easier, I hope."

Nyx' scoffed, "Please... What shall happen on a routine mission to kill some animals which are terrorizing the outskirts?"

Little did he know...

*

"Here kitty, kitty!", Pelna called out and tried to gain the attention of some Sabertusks that had been running into small woods.

"Seriously?", Crowe asked, crossing her arms with a frown on her face.

"What? Somehow we have to get their attention back or do you wanna run after them into the woods where the space is crap to fight against them?", Pelna argued.

Libertus stepped next to Crowe while Nyx was a bit closer to the woods and watched the scene closely. Somehow, it had become silent. Too silent for Nyx’ liking. Not one single sound was to be heard except the soft rustling of the leaves of some trees.

Then, he heard something in the distance but the bikerings of his friends were too loud, so Nyx couldn't locate the source of the sound or what it was at all. After another moment had passed, Nyx turned around with a stern expression, "Guys! Could you shut up, please? I heard something!"

"What did you hear?", Libertus asked and earned a rolling of Nyx' eyes.

"I don't know because you're still talk-", but Nyx stopped as he heard this voice again. This time it was louder and came from the nearby woods.

"Help! Anyone help me!"

"Have you guys heard it?", Nyx asked and stepped forward, closer to the voice. He still couldn't see the source so his eyes darted around to find it.

Pelna stepped to Nyx' side, "It came from the woods."

"Yes, but I can't see from where.", Nyx answered serious, drawing his brows together in concern. Running blind was a bad idea. Nyx still searched the area until a figure emerged from a bunch of bushes, running and stumbling forward.

Shocked, Nyx watched you. You were dressed in some casual, short clothes. It could be just something comfortable to chill or something to sleep with. But whatever it was, it wasn't suitable for someone who was out in the wild. So, the first impressions Nyx had about you were: reckless and … cute

"Help! Please, someone help!", you cried out once again while you stumbled forward, flailing with your arms to keep your balance. Four mean and vicious lonking beasts were chasing you. The animals were jumping out of the woods and caught up on you quickly.

This was enough for Nyx to react, "Guys! Take care of the Sabertusks! I will hurry to help them!", he commanded as he saw you falling to the ground, lying there in shock while waiting for the beasts to attack you. Without a second thought, Nyx threw his Kukri to your position.

Screaming and wheezing you crawled back over the ground, cutting deep into the palms of your hands with sharp stones. Backwards, you tried to create as much space as possible for the monsters with the ugly head, the sharp teeth and deadly claws.

Once again, you cried out for help as something appeared in front of you with a soft sizzling and a sound like fire cracking. You blinked for a moment and then, a man was emerging in front of you. He was surrounded by sparks and glitter. He knelt in front of you on one knee with burning scars in his face.

You cried out in surprise and fear, trying to crawl away from him but Nyx raised his hands to soothe you, "It's okay. You're safe now.", he said, trying to calm you but he still saw the panic in your eyes.

You crawled further till your back hit a huge rock, so your way was blocked. The guy looked back at something before he turned back to you. Obviously, he was pleased with what he saw because his expression was more relaxed than before. You noticed his incredible blue eyes and his handsome face. He looked strange with the hairstyle and the tattoos on his face. Strange but not scary, quite the opposite, which made it easier for you to calm down.

While putting away the Kukri, Nyx noticed that you became calmer even if your breath was still erratic. The pure panic became less and left were two beautiful eyes staring right back at him. Your whole appearance was eye-catching as he looked past all the dirt. Slowly, he crawled closer to you, "I won't hurt you. My name is Nyx. What's your name?", he said soothingly, stretching out his hand to you to show you that he was unarmed.

You calmed down by the sound of his warm voice and the sight of the smile on his full lips, "My... My name is YN.”

Nyx smiled softly as he heard your nice voice. As you shot him a weak smile, he felt his heart making a little jump because it was so beautiful. There was something on you he liked immediately. Quickly, he checked your skin but except for a few scratches and bruises, he couldn’t see any serious wounds, “Nice to meet you, YN. Are you hurt?”

You shook your head while moving your arms and legs a little bit to check on them, “I- I'm fine- ahhh!", you cried out in shock about the view of one of the mean beasts that had chased you as its head appeared next to Nyx'. You panicked and luckily, you passed out finally so you wouldn't notice how Nyx with the nice eyes would die before you would get killed as well.

As Nyx saw you passing out, he reached out for you, catching your shoulders before your head could hit the ground and placed your upper body on his lap. As you were secure, Nyx looked up and watched Libertus stepping closer with a dead Sabertusk body as a trophy raised in the air. He was covered in blood and had a big grin on his lips. Annoyed, Nyx sighed, "Great job, idiot.", Nyx said with you unconscious lying in his arms.

***

As you awoke, you found yourself in a room. It was grey, plain, simple and you were alone. Slowly, you sat up, your head was slightly spinning and a dull pain throbbed behind your temple but your vision became slowly clearer. As you looked around, your eyes landed on a neat folded pile of clothes. Your own were torn and dirty and so, you were thankful to change them.

While you dressed in plain black pants and shirt, you heard sounds coming from behind the door. You considered staying in the safeness of the room but your curiosity won. So, you sneaked out, looking left and right the hallway before you followed the undefined sounds.

After a few metres, you found yourself faced with the view of a courtyard. You were on the second floor and looked into a wide open area. There were men flying and jumping around, all dressed in black, uniform-like clothes. They were appearing and disappearing quickly. Someone started in one corner and landed immediately in another across the field accompanied with sparks and glitter. That you had seen this effect once before calmed you.

Like a circus show, the people were making flic-flac or somersaults. A thought struck you: maybe you got rescued by a bunch of acrobatics and the strange animals had been part of their show? You leant against the handrail to watch them excited.

Suddenly, a man, who stopped right in front of you, keeping himself steady with his hands on the handrail, brought you out of these deliberations and out of your fascination, "Oh, hey, sleeping beauty! Are you good?", the tall guy asked. But unfortunately, it wasn't the one with the incredible blue eyes.

"Libertus! Back to training!", someone called out in a harsh tone, commanding the man away from you.

"Sorry, I have to go.", and with that said, the man called 'Libertus', threw his blade and disappeared in a fog of sparkling stuff.

Still amazed, you watched the others and their 'training', leaning against the handrail with your arms again. As you got used to their tricks, you liked to watch them and how easy it seemed to move so quickly around.

So, as someone appeared next to you, you were startled about the sudden sound of an unknown voice. The owner was tall, with broad shoulders and dressed in a heavy outfit with leather and decorations, "Hi, good to see you awake. My name is Titus Drautos. I’m the Captain of the Kingsglaive.", he introduced himself seriously but calmly.

You frowned, "Kingsglaive?", you asked. You never had heard such a name.

"Yeah... They are the Kingsglaive.", Drautos said and pointed at the jumping figures, "How do you feel?", he asked, checking you quickly but your eyes were clear and there was no other sign of sickness.

"Oh, I'm feeling good again. Thank you.", you said politely, unsure if he wanted to know more but you also felt uncomfortable around him even if you couldn't say why.

"Is there anything I can do for you?", Drautos said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Yeah, actually, I would like to speak with the man who saved me. I would like to thank him. I think 'Nyx' was his name?", you said carefully, watching the Captain’s reaction.

Drautos looked at you for a split second before he shrugged with his shoulders, stepping forward to the handrail, "Ulric!", he called out.

A few seconds later, you watched how a man appeared in front of you, emerging from sparks and glitter like on the field. This time, you were calmer and so, you were impressed how he did this. You never had seen something like this before. And once again, you noticed the glowing, fiery scars carved into his face and down his neck as he stepped in front of the Captain, taking position like a soldier.

"Yes, Sir?", Nyx said serious but already had caught sight of you staring at him. He was glad to see you awake and noticed you approaching with a curious glance. Your eyes were already distracting but Nyx tried to focus on his Captain.

"Since you were the one who had saved YN's life, I thought it would be just right if you would talk with them.", Drautos said serious, "Take care of them.", he said as if you wouldn't stay right next to him before he turned over to march away.

You stared after the tall man, "Actually, it wasn't his idea...", you said resentfully.

Nyx chuckled and closed up on you, "He seeks advantage from whatever he gets. Forget it. But I'm glad that you're awake again. You frightened me a lot as you passed out.", he said with a warm smile.

You chuckled shyly, rubbing the back of your neck, "Yeah...sorry for that. I never fainted before but on the other hand, I never was in such a scary situation."

"I know. Libertus can be frightening-"

"No! I meant this monster! I never saw something like this in my entire life.", you explained, shaking about the mere memory.

“You mean the Sabertusk?", Nyx asked, confused. Sure, not every Insomnian citizen knew all Lucis' animals or had seen them in real life but Sabertusks were so common that even the smallest kids knew about them.

"Saber- what? Nevermind. I just don't want to see any of this again."

Nyx chuckled, "Don't worry. Here in Insomnia, you're safe."

You tilted your head, "Insomnia?"

Nyx frowned and was concerned if you might have hit your head after all, "Yeah... Insomnia? The capital city of Lucis?"

You blinked several times because you had no idea what he was talking about, "Lucis? Is that a nickname for... Louisiana?"

Nyx stepped in front of you, looking in your eyes and checking your head but you seemed alright, "Amnesia, huh? Well, I guess this will be over soon. I'm sure it's coming from the shock. You're hungry?", he asked hopefully to be able to spend more time with you and watched how a broad smile spread on your lips.

"I'm starving!", you answered.

"Oh, no! Don't do that! Drautos will yell at me if I won't take good care of you.", he joked and showed you the way out of the headquarters.

As you stepped out of the building, you had no idea that the time for questions and wonders had just begun.

Nyx passed the entrance mindlessly and walked down the few stairs but as he couldn't hear you following him, he turned around just to see you staring at the skyline with big eyes. It was this moment where Nyx noticed two things:

First, the astonishment you showed as you looked at all the buildings and at the sky with the magical wall wasn't just an act and second, Nyx realized that he was attracted to you.

It was the second point that surprised Nyx the most. He barely knew you. He had just met you and still, there was something on you. He had felt it back on the field. Something he couldn't put a finger on. Were it your eyes? Or the way you looked at the surroundings as if you had never seen any of all this before? Or was it the way you looked at him?

Nyx thought about it like a magical aura that surrounded you. There was something on you he couldn't quite understand but he was eager to find out what it was. Amused but at the same time attentive, he watched you stumbling down the few stairs because your eyes were still directed at the sky. Nyx caught you at the last moment and shook his head with a grin, "Watch out, YN. Don't walk around so mindlessly or you will hurt yourself.", he whispered.

You noticed your cheeks redden, mostly as you felt Nyx’ strong hands on your body and how close he was, but as your eyes met his you saw the grin on his lips, "Usually, I'm more cautious but- have you seen the sky? It… Is it sparkling? It looks as if sparkling waves are spreading over the city…", you breathed, looking up once again.

Nyx looked from you at the sky and back at you before he placed you back on the ground, "Y-yeah… it's kinda sparkling. That's the magic of the crystal. The crystal which secures this city through the King's power?", he added as he saw your puzzled expression.

"Y-you… this city has a King? And a magical- what? A wall?"

"Very funny!", Nyx called out and laughed. He thought you would make fun of him but as you still stared at him with no amusement, he frowned, "Where do you actually come from?"

"Oh, I'm from New Jersey.”

“Never heard about it before. Come on, let us get something to eat and then we talk a bit.”

*

"What the hell is this building? Is this a church?", you asked, pointing at a building with two tall towers where something shot into the sky from the middle of the building, "This smoke looks … strange.", you pointed out.

This was the tenth question of that kind you had asked during the last five minutes. Nyx stopped in his tracks and looked at you, "It's the Citadel. The castle?", he tried to trigger your memories as you showed no reaction, "The 'smoke' you see there is actually the energy from the crystal that creates the wall. I told you about it before."

You nodded slowly, "Yeah… the crystal… You have some crazy stuff here.", you said, impressed, chewing on some spicy meat you had picked from a stick.

Before Nyx could react, he got a call and asked you to wait, "Ulric. Yes, Sir. Yes, we're still in the city. No, Sir.", he answered the questions asked by Drautos while he watched you wandering around. Nyx kept you in sight but was also fascinated by the way you looked at all the different things around you. He wouldn't call it naive but it seemed as if you were easily impressed. You found something interesting in the smallest things while Nyx caught himself by thinking about you as cute and … lovely.

Another question of Drautos brought Nyx back to reality and he realized that he stopped listening to his Captain a while ago, "Yes, Sir. I'm listening. Of course. Yes, I will take care of YN. Yes. Bye-", but the Captain already had hung up, "Good day to you, too, Sir."

As you noticed that Nyx was done with his call, you joined him again, "What was the matter? Are you in trouble?", you asked, concerned because you had hogged Nyx for quite a while.

"No, everything's good. It was just Drautos. Obviously, you're stuck with me a bit longer. I got the orders to look after you.", Nyx answered with a soft smile as he saw your worried expression which changed into a huge, charming, heart-stopping smile.

"Great. I still have a bunch of questions.", you said excitedly, linking your arm with Nyx' to wander further through the Crown's City.

***

But not just you had a lot of questions. Nyx too. In the beginning, he thought you would make fun of him as you asked so many things about the best known facts of Eos everyone actually knows.

But quickly, after Nyx had asked you a bunch of questions on his own, he realized that you weren't joking. Sure, as you told him that you came through a mirror, because you had been fallen through it, sounded more like a bedtime story for kids but you spoke about everything with so much conviction that Nyx believed you.

The Captain, slightly concerned about your state because Nyx had told him about his suspicion that you could suffer from amnesia, asked on a regular basis if Nyx had any new information about you. And not for one second, Nyx thought about telling him the truth.

He said neither something about your journey through the mirror nor about your life in New Jersey. That you knew nothing about Eos at all because this was simply not your world. He kept it all a secret.

Because Nyx felt the urge to protect you. Whenever he was with you in the past week he felt good. As if just your presence was able to lift his spirit. You were funny, curious and interested in him and in this, for you, new world. Nyx already liked you. A lot. It wasn't just attraction anymore, rather he really started to like you on a more emotional level even after this short of time. But he had no idea how you were thinking about him.

So, by the end of the week, Nyx collected as much courage as he could find, "Hey, uhm… Libertus and the others are meeting at Yamachang's. You… Do you wanna come with me? I- I mean us?", he asked and felt nervous. The whole week, he had been with you with no problem and now, he felt nervous because this question didn't belong to the Captain's order anymore to take care of you. For him, it was far more.

You saw the hope in Nyx’ eyes and the insecurity in his expression about what your answer would be. The past week, you had spent a lot of time with Nyx. You got to know him. His life as a Glaive. As a refugee. You had learned about his deceased family and his life in Galahd. And, not very surprisingly, you started to like the soldier with the greyish hair and the incredible blue eyes. For you, it was extremely hard to resist his charm and his handsomeness. And in the end, you didn’t want to resist him. You just had no idea how he thought about you.

You tried to get closer to Nyx so many times. You wanted to show him in a subtle way how you felt. Maybe, this invitation would give you the opportunity to make a move on him, "I would love to come with you.", the slowly growing smile on Nyx' lips gave you the sense to have done things right.

*

"YN, it's good to see that you're alright again.", Pelna said and gave you a drink.

"Yeah… Nyx did everything to bring me back on track.", you said and winked at Nyx who smiled shyly.

"The Captain already complained you two were just sightseeing all the time.", Crowe said jokingly.

You chuckled, scratching the back of your neck, "Yeah… I guess, the amnesia had hit me harder than I thought."

Nyx looked at you with a frown. After you had told him your story, he was sure you were okay. No amnesia or something like this. So, why were you sticking to this story instead of telling the truth?

"Oh, so, you remember where you come from and stuff?", Libertus asked.

You smiled at him, "Yes, of course.", you answered. Quickly, you checked on Nyx who still watched you. Were you seeing cautiousness in his eyes? Was he afraid of what you would say? You looked back at Libertus, "I come from Altissia. I was moving to Insomnia for a new job. As you found me, I was on my way but unfortunately, I had an accident with my car and then, the horrors with all these creatures started. You have to know, Altissia is built on water. We don't have such wildlife as Lucis has."

Nyx stared at you speechless. You were lying. Lying about everything. Effortlessly. But everything you said were things you knew from him. Nyx showed you a map of Eos. He told you as much as he knew about Lucis and Accordo. About all the differences he could remember. You turned your head and smiled softly at him. You even winked at Nyx and he saw in your eyes that you would explain it to him later.

*

You and Nyx walked side by side as you left Yamachang's a few hours later. The Crown's City was still buzzing. People were walking to bars, clubs and restaurants. You turned your head over to Nyx and because he was unusually quiet, you nudged his shoulder with yours, "You think they bought my story?"

Nyx looked at you with an unreadable expression, "You were lying."

"Yes and I hated it. Trust me. But what else should I say? The truth? That I fell through a mirror and landed here? Instead that I woke up in my bed in New Jersey, I awoke in an old hunters hut in the middle of nowhere?", you pointed out softly.

Nyx nodded. He understood your point. He was barely able to understand all this but he had accepted it. You had spoken so detailed about your home that there was no way that everything was just made up. But to explain everything to his friends would be maybe too much.

Suddenly, a thought struck his mind and he was surprised that he didn't have thought about this earlier. Carefully, he looked at you, "Do you miss it? Your … home, I mean."

Your brows shot up because you realized that you were barely thinking about your former life, "Actually, I uhm…", you whispered, searching for the right words, before you looked at Nyx and stopped. You had reached the plaza of the Citadel. You looked at the stream of magical power and at the beautiful sparkling light. The moon was already up and together it was a captivating view. You looked back at Nyx who waited patiently, "To be honest, I have barely thought about it since I've been here."

Nyx stepped closer to you. It was a moment that could change things and he felt it. Maybe it was silly to think about a future with someone he knew for just one week but here he was, looking into your enchanting, sparkling eyes and watching how your teeth were digging into your lower lip, "If it would be possible, if there would be a way, would you… go back?"

You also stepped forward with a pounding heart in your chest. For one week, you asked yourself how Nyx' lips would taste, how his hands would feel on your skin when he would want you and how soft his hair really felt between your fingers, "You know, as I was in this hut, before you found me? I tried to find a way to get back. Now, I think things might have changed.", you whispered.

Nyx' pulse quickened as he saw your breathtaking smile, "What has changed? I mean, this is not your world.", he said softly, stroking with the back of his hand over your cheek before he cupped your face carefully, "There's nothing that would keep you here.", he whispered.

You leant against his warm hand, even inhaling his scent, "For me, there would be a reason … rather… someone… to stay here.", you said, looking at Nyx in a certain way to tell him that you meant him. As you let your hands slid underneath his jacket, stroking over Nyx' chest, feeling him tensing, you saw that he understood, "But I- I'm not sure what this someone might think of it if I would want to stay.", you said meaningfully.

Nyx was nervous, excited and jittery at the same time. It had increased since you had started to touch him softly. Your affection gave him the courage to snake his other arm slowly around your waist to pull you closer, "You know, you have nothing to fear about this someone’s reaction. He would be more than happy to keep you here.", he breathed, nudging playfully your nose with his with a shy smile on his lips.

You mimicked his smile. The moonlight was sparkling in Nyx’ mysteriously glowing eyes which kept you in their spell, "Y- you're so sure about it?", you whispered.

Nyx nodded slowly, still looking into your eyes, "Yes, I am sure. YN, I… I'm falling for you. There's no doubt how I'm feeling about you. It's crazy because we just met one week ago but … you're so beautiful. And so amazing. The way you're interested in all these new things. How you look at everything … how you look at me… I wouldn't stop you if you really want to go back home but I… I would love to be the reason for you to stay here. With me."

You snaked your arms around Nyx' neck, pulling him closer, "You're the best reason I could ask for.", you breathed against his lips before you closed the gap finally.

Nyx responded to your move and kissed you deeply. His fingers found their way into your hair while he caressed your lips with his. The grip of his arm around you got even stronger to have you close while you played with his hair in a teasing way. He was overwhelmed by all the things he felt by just kissing you. No matter where you had come from, that you were there, with him, that you even existed was everything for him.

Under the magical, white moon of Lucis, Nyx gave you an unspoken promise. He wouldn't let you go. Never. From the beginning, you were more than just someone whose life he had rescued. You were what he had missed in his life all the time. He had been searching for something that had been out of reach. But obviously destiny meant it well and you had been falling into his life like a miracle. Literally. And Nyx would treat you like this. With his lips, he sealed this promise to you.

For the first time in your life, you felt as if you were in the right spot. You weren't misplaced anymore. You even had found people that already cared for you. You had found someone who wanted to keep you in his life. Maybe you should feel sad for leaving your former life just like that. Maybe you should feel lost because this wasn't your world. But in fact, you felt home. As Nyx kissed you, he showed you a future you never thought you would have.

For the first time, you felt excited for all the unknown things that were lying in front of you. You would discover all of these things. With Nyx by your side.

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Of Monsters and Men

Chapter 8- Bottled Appetites

Summary: A peaceful day can turn sour so fast, but alas, it still never fails to bring you adventure. Whether you’re ready for it or not.

Warnings: Jaskier being stubit, blood, Geralt being a hottie, a bit of smut

Masterlist

Today couldn't be more beautiful, the sun is shining her grand radiance and the forest is full of life as you listen to the singing of birds from your comfortable spot on a large tree branch that's hanging over top of Geralt. He's currently focused intently on fishing out a djinn to hopefully cure his sleep apnea that's been really bothering him as of late. Well, that's at least the reasoning he's claimed.

You've tried to help him with herbs, potions, and more sensual physical activities. But nothing has appeared to work, so here he is, grumpier then usual as he throws a fishing net into the river in hopes that he'll snag himself a djinn in a bottle.

Laying your back against the long branch, one of your legs swings casually back and forth as you listen to your surroundings. Your stomach growls from lack of any sufficient food in the last two days when your ears suddenly hear the tell tale singing of a certain bard as he strolls through the woodland in search of his long time friends, "Cause you all know. That this bard. Loved ladies from Nilfgaard. 'Cause Nilfgaard can kiss my..." Sings the bard as he wanders down the trail until his eyes land on your Witcher, "Geralt! Hello. What's it been months? Years? What is time, anyway? I heard you and Y/N...wherever she is....were in town.' His voice is just as cheerful and upbeat as you'd remembered, "Are you following me, you scamp? I mean I'm flattered and everything, but I think that feisty lady of yours may start to get jealous." Rambles Jaskier as he takes out his flask.

He takes a small sip before offering it to Geralt, who ignores him, Jaskier shakes this off and keeps to his questioning when suddenly you drop down from seemingly out of nowhere. Doing a fantastic job at scaring the shit out of Jaskier in your abrupt arrival, he yelps before stumbling back a few feet. "Dear gods Y/N have you been just hanging around in the treetops like some type of...of..bat?" He stammers breathlessly, a hand over his thudding heart.

Smirking at him you throw him a quick wink, "Only for you my humble bard." He stands up straight as a light blush dusts his cheeks as you turn to follow Geralt down the side of the river path, while he searches for a better spot to catch this djinn, Jaskier trailing behind you both.

"Geralt, you're fantastic at a great many things, but clearly, fishing is not one of them. Have you caught anything today? What are you fishing for, exactly?" Intrudes Jaskier as Geralt fiddles with his netting while you lean against a tree, "Is it cod? Carp?" He looks to you for a second before his attentions back on Geralt, "Pike? Bream? I'm just....I'm just listing off fish that I know. Zander? Is that a fish?" Wonders the bard as he raises a brow at you.

You simply shrug, "He's not fishing, can't sleep." Jaskier nods, not sure what to do with that information.

"Right. Good. Well, that...makes sense. In so much that it sort of...doesn't." Frowns Jaskier as he suddenly looks a bit more worried, "What's going on Geralt, talk to me."

Geralt stops before letting out a tired sigh as he looks to Jaskier, "A djinn." Is all he admits before he's back to grappling with his net.

You watch as Jaskier's face scrunches up in deep confusion, "A what?"

"I'm looking for a djinn." Grumbles Geralt as the bards face looks even more puzzled then before.

Then all at once it seems that he's finally connected the dots, a smirk breaking upon his face as he sets his hands onto either hip, "For a dj....for a djinn? A dj...like a genie?" Laughs Jaskier as he wiggles his fingers in a playful manner, "The floaty fellas with the....the bad tempers and the banned magics, that kind of genie?"

Geralt stand up once again, a hard expression across his brow while Jaskier fails at concealing his laughter, "Yes. It'll grant me wishes. It's in this river somewhere. And I can't FUCKING SLEEP!" Snaps Geralt, golden eyes glowing even brighter as his anger boils over.

Geralt glances to you for a brief moment before turning and walking further down the river path, the bard follows suite as you trail behind them, amused at Jaskier's continuous rambling about his latest adventures and the possible reason why Geralt is so sleep deprived.

"Have you ever considered why you may be feeling this way hm, let's say...oh I don't know, we find the root of the problem. I mean, maybe, just maybe this whole sleeplessness-ness has got something to do with what the druid Mousesack said to you guys in Cintra? You know, the Law of Surprise? Destiny? Being unable to escape the child that belongs to you, et cetera, et cetera?" Inquires Jaskier as you watch Geralt prepare to throw in the net.

"No! Y/N was there too and she's fine....this is something else." Grumbles your Witcher as he throws his net into the waters below.

Jaskier looks from you to Geralt, hands on his hips the whole time, "Yeah, you're probably right. But what if you're not? You know, the Countess de Stael once said to me...that destiny is just the embodiment of the soul's desire to grow." Explains Jaskier he walks past you to sit down on a log.

A small laugh escapes from your lips as you turn to the bard, "Did you sing to her before she left?" You honestly couldn't help yourself, pushing Jaskier's buttons is just a solid talent of yours.

He looks out at the water, "I did, actually, and she.." His head quickly turns to you once he realizes what that comment suggested, "Why, what are you implying?" Wonders Jaskier as he tilts his head to you, a smirk breaks out upon your face as you then bite your lip to keep silent. He gets up from the log, an abashed expression crossing his features, "Oh, we are so having this conversation. Come on, Y/N. Geralt. Tell me. Be honest. How's my singing?"

You cross your arms over your chest while casually looking out at the river and pretend that he hasn't even said anything, although you're certain Geralt on the other hand will add his two cents. He tosses his net out into the water once again before turning to Jaskier, "It's like ordering a pie and finding it has no filling." Deadpans Geralt as you burst with laughter, Jaskier looking rather taken aback as his eyes go wide in surprise.

"You need a nap! I mean are you trying to hurt my feelings, Geralt? It's...it's down-downright indecorous of you, if I'm completely honest, and.." He quickly loses interest once Geralt unveils a bottle from his net, "Wow. Wow. What is...what is that?" Questions Jaskier as Geralt holds the djinn bottle in his muddy hands, you hover over his shoulder as you stare at the thing in amazement. It doesn't look like much but the wizards seal on the bottles cork is truly telling, too bad it doesn't have a three course meal inside.

"It's a wizards seal. The djinn." Geralt confirms softly as he studies the enchanted bottle until Jaskier suddenly grabs onto the bottles other handle.

"Do you mind if I...."

"Jaskier." Snaps Geralt as you stand back to watch, deciding it more entertaining if you don't intervene.

The bard points an accusing finger in his direction, "Take it back about my filling-less pie. Take it back, you get your djinny-djinn-djinn."

Rolling your crimson eyes you set a hand on your hip, "Let go Jask."

He turns to you with a fake sneer before snapping his attention back to your stoic Witcher, "No! No, you let go, you horse's arse!" Suddenly the bottle slips from Geralt's hand as he looks down at the cork in his fist, a confused expression on his handsome features as nothing appears to happen around either of them.

Jaskier studies the bottle in his hand, looking rather disappointed, "That's a bit of an anticlimax." He mutters dismally at the boring turn of events, although you can't help but notice as a soft supernatural whispering begins to make itself known to your hypersensitive ears, then right on cue does the wind begin to pick up, the woods feeling a bit darker as the clouds go grey up above, "Or is it?" He says excitedly as he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

Crossing your arms over your chest, your nerves prick at the odd change in the atmosphere, "Shit." You mumble while Jaskier walks past Geralt, he gives you a sour look as you grimace in knowing annoyance.

Standing on the edge of the riverbank, Jaskier points to the sky, "Djinn, I have freed thee, and as of this day, I am thy lord. Firstly, may Valdo Marx the troubadour of Cidaris, be struck down with apoplexy and die. Secondly, the Countess de Stael must welcome me back with glee, open arms and very little clothing. Thirdly..." Geralt quickly pulls him back in an attempt to shut him up before something terrible happens to him.

"Jaskier! Stop. There are only three wishes." Warns Geralt as you stand next to him, the both of you staring the bard down like two disappointed parents.

"You're a fucking idiot, Jask." You add bluntly as he simply rolls his blue eyes, unbothered by this djinn considering his two friends are a Witcher and dhampire.

"Only three wishes!" Grumbles Geralt as Jaskier observes his agitated demeanor.

"Oh, come on, you got Y/N, she's quite literally the best thing that's ever happened to you...how was I to know you wanted three wishes all to yourself?" Shouts the bard over the loud enchanted winds that are rapidly starting to build, ones that are rocking the tree branches and leaves every which way, as well as your hair.

"I just want some damn peace!" Bellows Geralt in frustration.

"Well, here's your peace!" Snaps Jaskier before idiotically smashing the bottle upon the ground in a blind moment of irritation.

Geralt quickly squats down to pick up the broken shards as you reach down to do the same, while picking them up he accidentally cuts himself on a sharp edge. You can instantly smell the blood, and though you haven't given into darker temptations in a long while. You're rather hungry from lack of coin to pay for any such meals that would gladly satisfy you, and right now it feels too much.

Snapping away from Geralt, you stand to your full height as you finally notice how sickly peculiar Jaskier is starting to appear, "Uh Y/N.." Gasps the bard breathlessly as he holds a hand to his throat, "Y/N...it's the djinn!" Stammers Jaskier as he points towards the river, you snap your attention to find a wispy black and purple mass racing for the three of you over the water.

Your eyes go wide in startled bewilderment, "Geralt!" You shout just as he stands and uses his magic to propel the creature back where it decides to take off into the sky.

Your Witcher stares up at the horizon as you catch the enthralling scent of blood once more, god you should really have eaten some berries or at least stolen something earlier to avoid this terrible primal hunger. You look over to Jaskier who's not looking too hot, a tiny trail of blood seeps out of the side of his mouth, his neck forming an unnatural lump as he wheezes in pain.

Geralt snaps his golden eyes down to the panicking bard, "Jaskier." He speaks before Jask leans over, a ruby red spurt of blood bursting from out of his mouth as he tries to gasp for breath, "Y/N?" Pleads Geralt in hopes that you can help him somehow. Though you're certain that if you would get any closer, you may break and give into your deeper vampiric desires that you've held at bay for so long. The part of you that has forever kept yourself from ever truly feeling human.

Shaking your head you flicker your eyes over to him, "I...I can't....I'm too starved....I'm sorry." You breath out, taking a cautious step back, the scent of Jaskier's warm blood on the breeze is enough to make your mouth water.

He purses his lips together, knowing that you can't do much for the time being, "Fuck." Grumbles Geralt as he quickly picks up Jaskier before booking it down the trail for Roach.

——

You follow in the form of a pack of bats close behind your boys as Geralt leads Roach to a small camp in the woods. You watch as he yells in question for a doctor, Jaskier slumped to the side as he leans into Geralt's broad back. Quickly a soldier confirms that an elven healer is inside, you land on a large firm tree branch, turning back into your original form as you watch them scurry into the grand white tent.

You focus your hearing and learn that if Jaskier's wounds are not treated by proper magic remedies, then he will certainly die. A pang of worry strikes you at the thought of your bard gone, and you do feel quite terrible knowing that he's in so much pain. But to your great or at least somewhat relief does the elf give Jaskier a pain relieving liquid concoction, thus explaining that a malicious and cunning mage is imprisoned in the mayor's house in the next town over who could heal the bards wounds.

A prominent feeling of uneasiness and caution surges throughout you at the thought of meeting another mage after months of evading any at all. Soon enough they quickly exit the tent and find themselves upon Roach's back before they take off in the direction of the closest town. With a heavy sigh you jump from the tree, shifting into a pack of whimsical black bats as you fly after Geralt throughout the tree tops and evening sky.

You're flight feels short lived as a couple miles later does Geralt finally find the large brick house of the mayor, its a rather beautiful place positioned on the edge of a huge lake with woods comfortably surrounding it. Roach gallops onto the gravel road when suddenly a tough half bald bearded man walks up to them. He gives them a hard time before Geralt abruptly knocks him out with a sack of coins, much to your amusement.

He takes Roach to the stables as you fly downward towards the ground, just as Geralt walks out of the barn with Jaskier dangling over his shoulder, you hastily shift back into your more presentable self. He gives you a nod of acknowledgment before a stern and determined look appears onto his hard features as he practically strides towards the closest wooden door. You follow behind as you clench your fists together in an attempt at distracting yourself from your ever growing hunger, the blood seeping out of Jaskier's mouth smells sweet as fresh berries as it wafts into your nostrils.

He wheezes in pain with every step that Geralt takes down the wine filled hallway which is enough to keep yourself from doing anything you'll regret later. He walks through a doorway before gently setting Jaskier onto the kitchen table, you follow in after him, your crimson eyes going wide as they find a naked man holding a brown shiny jug. He stares in awe at the three of you just as he drops his jug onto the stone floor below.

What the fuck?

A large drunken half smile makes its way onto his face, "Velcome...to my vome." Cheerfully announces the grey haired naked man, his arms spread wide in greeting, other parts of him also hanging out to your great disgust.

"You're the Mayor of Rinde?" Wonders Geralt as he looks to Jaskier.

Looking anywhere but the man, you throw a hand up before resting it onto your hip, "Our day has already been weird enough, why not meet a naked man in his home to top it all off, huh?" You jest with a nervous laugh, almost certain that this fool has been enchanted. He has to be, right?

The bard makes more wheezing sounds as Geralt's brow furrows in worry, "Uh, it there a mage that lives here?" The naked man turns to something sitting near Jaskier as his face shifts to that of realization.

"Ah. De apple jvuce. She vants some. And she alvays gets...vhat she vants." Whispers the man with a telling nod, oh yes he is without a doubt under some type of spell.

Geralt turns a confused eye to you, "I don't understand. Does he want me to get him the apple juice?" You turn your eyes back to the man as he goes to sit down in a chair, you look back to Geralt with a shrug, "No idea? Let's just find this fucking mage." You grumble as Jaskier tries to nod.

Your Witcher grabs the apples juice and the scruff of the bards baby blue jacket as he goes to walk into the nearest doorway. You turn back to the naked potbellied man only to be greeted with his loud snores, shaking your head you amble after your boys. As you follow closely behind Geralt you look down to notice as a greenish mist cascades out from under the closed door. He quickly pulls it open as more billows out and into the hallway, there's nothing on the other side but an ascending staircase, to the left another closed doorway that seems to have even more of the mist coming from it.

It's strange, you can hear muffled moaning on the other side and the rapid beating of many loud heartbeats. Your questions are quickly answered as the two of them walk into the next open doorway only to stumble upon a massive orgy. You keep behind the wall as you crinkle your nose in disgust at the strong scent of sex, sweat, and perfume in the air, a less than pleased expression crossing your features at the sickening toxins.

One that most likely matches Geralt's if you didn't know any better. You listen closely as he walks through the moaning crowd before he plops Jaskier next to someone, you feel almost sick from lack of food and the smell of this place is just about driving you mad. But you can't face the mage, something just doesn't feel right.

You listen as he speaks to her, your heart falling into your throat as she replies back, that voice, you haven't heard that voice in decades. But how? How could she be here of all places to be? Shaking your thoughts from your mind you eves drop in on their conversation until she begins to give him a hard time about payment, sounding rather too sensual for your liking.

"It's spreading, fix it. And I'll pay you. Whatever the price." Mutters Geralt to the familiar mage as he looks up at her from his spot near the small stairway that she's standing on.

"You'll have to do better then juice." Answers the mage slyly as she contemplates this intriguing new proposition.

"Yennefer." She stops in her tracks, her body tense as realization crosses her masked face, "Don't be difficult." You add as Geralt steps to the side, a confused expression on his face as he looks from you to Yennefer and back to you again.

She takes a step down, a small smirk adoring her ruby red lips as she looks you over, "Now this...is a surprise, how long's it been? I honestly wasn't certain that our paths would ever cross again, I was almost hoping they wouldn't....but alas. Here you are....it's good to see you Y/N." She smiles, studying your bloodshot eyes due to your increase in hunger, she smiles, "You look, famished." Concludes the mage with a tilt of her head.

You slightly shrug, "What a kind way to say I look like I'm halfway into hell....now, save him before he bleeds anymore."

She smiles, looking down at the djinn's bottle cap, "As you command, princess Y/N." Quips Yennefer with a smirk as she looks around the room, "Ragamuffin!" And just like that the mass orgy stops, the participating villagers snapping back to reality in the process. They quickly scramble to cover themselves as Yennefer looks to the two of you, nodding for you three to follow her to where she can heal Jaskier.

——

After clearing out half the pantry and about two small bottles of wine, you're finally satiated and no more half starved. You casually sit on the kitchen table as Geralt stares at the floor in worry for the bard and in deep questioning thought about how the hell you know Yennefer. You could practically cut the tension with a knife, but then much to your relief she comes walking down the steps.

Calmly announcing that Jaskier is in a deep healing sleep, and that you both urgently need a bath, something you wholeheartedly agree on. She hands the both of you some clean clothes as she directs you into the direction of the bathhouse, going elsewhere to give you both some privacy.

You walk into the steamy warm room as Geralt shuts the door, locking it as you start to unlace your top, "Y/N how do you know..."

"Ask me when I'm in the bath, then I'll indulge you for some of my hidden past....dealings." You interrupt with the flash of a smile before throwing off your top and bra. You face away from him as you kick off your boots, quickly shimmying out of your dark pants and undergarments as you stand stark naked by the heated pool.

Turning a quick glance behind you, your eyes catch Geralt's as his golden irises trail down your body, he looks away as an embarrassed grin makes its way onto his handsome face. You smile to yourself, turning to lower your tired vessel into the steaming waters. Sighing in pleasure at how the bath feels blessedly nice after many moons of going without a proper clean.

You close your eyes as your sit peacefully by the waters edge, a smirk playing at your lips as Geralt's muscular body gets in after you. You listen intently as he lets himself enjoy the warmth before some water swishes and he's pressed firmly against your side. An arm draped over your shoulder as his other one leans against the cool stony edge, you can just tell that he's taking you all in even as his mind swirls with questions.

"Y/N? What did you get into before you met me....or I guess what type of trouble? Although I do happen to recall your hatred for wizards and mages alike." Mutters your Witcher as he looks down at your relaxed form, your body but a nude distortion under the clear waters of the pool.

Humming in acknowledgment, you open a scarlet eye to look up at him as you give him a small smile, you can tell that if it wasn't for how curious he is at the moment, he'd without a doubt be turning you into a moaning mess by the waters edge within minutes, "I know Yennefer because...I....well I was a type of courier in Aretuza for many years." His dark brows furrow in thought, not sure what you're getting at so you continue, "The mage academy, I traveled there because I searched for the aid of the mages, you see, I had found a farm girl who was bitten by a werewolf and survived. Her father said he would pay me if I delivered her into their care, double if they cured her."

His hand trails tiny patterns against your arm, "And what did you do?"

"I was able to save her life, we had a week before the next full moon and a mage there had the needed remedy to reverse the lycanthropy. After that, I stayed with her there as she recovered from the whole ordeal...considering the process of taking away ones curse is a painful one." You explain as he laces a hand with your own, invested in your story with every new word coming from your lips, "In my time, I investigated the grounds...I was only two-hundred something then...I wanted to see everything. So I did, in doing so, and yes I'm aware this is going to sound quite unlike myself...but, I made a friend."

He hums, squeezing your arm gently in reply, "Her name was Tissaia de Vries, though that hardly matters now it's been so long, anyways....she appeared to like me well enough, I needed a place to cover myself from the rain, and coin to keep me alive and she knew what I was useful for. I basically became a raven, I would take precious letters, scrolls, or artifacts from Aretuza to wherever needed and vise versa. It was safer that way, no one would dare fuck with a dhampir of all travelers, and the ones who did promptly regretted it...and I got to live in the academy for free. It was perfect."

"When did you meet Yennefer?"

"Sometime after a good many years as a courier slash traveling body guard for high end royals who payed well, Tissaia had just brought her to Aretuza for the first time and while walking near her room I could smell the blood pouring out of her slashed wrists, the fool was trying to kill herself." He glances down at you, more intrigued then ever.

(Cue flashback)

"Check on piglet would you Y/N, I'll be gathering the girls for their first lesson shortly in the greenhouse. Make sure she's up." Says Tissaia as she writes something down on a piece of parchment with her quill.

Setting down some type of golden box onto one of her many counters you turn to her, "The little bird seems hardly mage material if I'm being honest....she's afraid, nervous, and ridiculously troubled...not to mention that hunched back of hers, poor things truly had it rough, now things only feel worse to her. You really know how to pick'em don't you?" You muse with a smirk as she continues to write, "Doesn't matter, everyone starts somewhere. I'll go find her, doubt she's decided to venture very far." You add before walking out the doorway and into the stony halls of the enchanted academy.

You pass by a couple mages here and there as you find your way to the novice's rooms in the lower section of the giant castle, you suddenly stop as you've successfully made it to her door. Not caring enough to knock, you swing it open as you find the sad hunchbacked girl, who's sniffling pathetically in her creaky bed, "Greetings little bird, how was your sleep?" Your voice is lively as you smile down in her direction while more dismal sniffles sound, a small half-frown graces your features as you cross your arms over your chest, "Can't say very well considering you've lost a good amount of blood, which I might add is not ideal for your first day of lessons or in general if we're being honest. You're seriously lucky I wasn't starving when I found you."

She sighs, "I don't want to do any lessons. Just leave me. You should have just let me die...at least I still had control over that." She whispers sadly, her back is still turned to you as you take another step closer.

Lightly chuckling, she turns to you, a harsh glare crossing her puffy features as you scoff, "That's hilarious. You really think that you had control? You didn't have shit little bird....you didn't have control, you were losing it." Her crooked face morphs into a frustrated glare as she thinks over your words, you simply shrug, "Now, you've survived and are very much alive whether you like it or not, it's close to the hour for your first lessons as a real mage in training, important shit for your kind. So get up little bird, it's time to fly."

She sniffles once more before giving you a downcast expression, "I can't."

Touching her shoulder in as comforting of a manner as you can muster you smile kindly down at her, "Listen, you can either let the world fuck you like a cheap whore, or you can become a dragon who does whatever the hell they please. Which is it my crooked friend? Who are you going to become?"

Slowly sitting up onto the edge of her bed, she rubs her nose, the tiniest bit of confidence flashing through her purple eyes, "A dragon." She whispers softly, a small spark of life coursing through her once again.

(End flashback)

"I had no idea, this whole time." Whispers Geralt.

You gently nudge his bare shoulder, "Yeah well you never exactly asked, and I didn't feel it important because it isn't or I guess wasn't....that is, until we happened to meet her this evening. Weirder circumstances have be felled us."

"That is true, its just, you were actual friends with mages." Says Geralt like its the most surprising thing in the world, "Now I understand how you knew Mousesack. I had always wondered about that."

"Hmm. Right, well you see and meet a lot of different people when you can't age. He's gotten greyer since the last time, Yennefer however, she still looks the same."

Geralt squeezes your hand, "And you, look even more radiant."

He looks down at you once more, the flash of something new and intriguing shinning bright in his golden eyes as they trail up and down your body. You smirk, pulling his arm from you as you position yourself in front of him, reaching your arms out to push his thighs apart. He eyes you up the whole time, hardness beginning to grow underneath the waters as you touch his shoulders, lining yourself up against him, ready to claim him completely, by just inches.

You softly kiss him, "Fuck me so that damn witch knows exactly who you belong to." His hands trail up to your sides as he pushes you down on his erect member, a low hum escaping your lips at the contact, his fullness pleasantly stretching your walls from within the steamy waters.

Geralt kisses you once more, another upon your neck as he smiles, "Such a compelling offer..." His words evade him as a moan leaves from his parted lips as you begin to ride him, the pools water swishing as you bounce. The next twenty minutes are spent fucking each other until you're one-hundred percent positive that Yennefer could hear every scream and thrust.

Just as you'd intended.

——

You stand at the foot of Jaskier's extravagant bed as Yennefer watches from the doorframe, Geralt near his side as the bard sleeps peacefully away his troubles and malevolent enchantment. Geralt looks on at him, a distraught expression crossing over his features as Yennefer asks if he doubts her capabilities. He grumbles a truthful no, as his only cause of worry is that if Jaskier never wakes up he'll feel terrible for the unkind words that were said to him before all this mess happened.

She smiles when he grumbles about her actual intentions, she simply walks past you over to her table of spices and herbs, but before she can get to it Geralt makes note of how the sign from the djinn's seal is marked upon the floor with candle wax. Her face falters as she realizes that she's been found out, you had figured something was up the moment you stepped into the room and saw it near the end of the large bed.

Leaning yourself against one of the bed posts, you listen as Geralt declares that he's going to take Jaskier now to prevent Yennefer from summoning the djinn, she smartly explains that if he does, then the spell won't take. So you're all essentially stuck until Jaskier is healed, whenever that may be. She turns to open a tiny bottle of oil on her stand, nonchalantly rubbing it into the skin of her wrist as she magically sets the summoning circle candles on fire, an enchanted burst of wind sending the drapes of the bed flying and flapping into the air, your hair as well.

This doesn't sit right with your Witcher at all, especially when she asks how many wishes he has made, Geralt doesn't give her a direct answer until he lets slip that Jask has only used two wishes. Her face perks up at this news, she gives you a mischievous wink before walking over to Geralt, who looks like something strange is happening to him.

You can smell the scent of lilac and gooseberries wafting throughout the room as she walks closer to him, "Tough to get in your head. You have a strong will, but you can't contend with me." You suddenly feel rather sleepy as Geralt looks down at her in anger, instead of helping him, you sit down on the bed and try your best to listen, "Sorry I couldn't be more direct, I knew you two would fight it. And I do love a good old-fashioned trap." She muses as your eyelids begins to grow heavy, a yawn leaving your mouth as you rest a hand against the soft inviting mattress.

So soft, so tired, how'd you get so sleepy?

Against everything in you that's screaming for you to stay awake to stop Yennefer, you feel utterly relaxed, so much so that instead of helping Geralt to stay conscious. You lay yourself on the giant bed, you blearily stare up at the dark wooden ceiling in false content, everything feels so warm and lovely. The room swirls and shifts as you tiredly close your crimson eyes, the sweet enchanting scent of lilac lulling you into a deep and blissful slumber.

Breathing in sharply, you stretch in the soft bed as your eyes finally open to the morning light pouring out from the two giant glass windows on either side of the bed. You're laying on your left side so as you focus better, you're surprised to find Jaskier laying on his back next to you. This is definitely not Geralt, so how did you get here?

Oh right, Yennefer.

Quickly sitting yourself up you look to the end of the bed where Yennefer is sitting, topless as she rubs something onto her bare abdomen. Your brows furrow as you stare at her back, "What the fuck are you doing?" You question, no heat really in your words, you're honestly more confused then anything at the moment.

Without looking at you she starts, "I need the djinn Y/N, this is how I intend to take it."

Sliding off of the side of the bed, you walk around so that you can lean against the wooden beam to see what she's getting at, "That's rather vague Yenn, but if I was to make an educated guess from my clever sleuthing, or just general understanding of how that clapping monkey of a brain works. I'd say you're trying to summon the fucker so your last wish may be for a child in your womb. Nice tattoo by the way, very original." You nod to the dark colored insignia on her lower abdomen in the shape of the female reproductive system, who would have guessed she was such as artist.

She glances at you for a second, anger slowly building in her chest, "How very clever indeed Y/N, even in old age does your mind stay as sharp as a tack." Her tone is bluntly sarcastic, but you stay unaltered by her jest.

You tilt your head at her, "Djinn's are finicky creatures, I wouldn't try and do exactly what I think you're going to do."

"And what is that?" She snaps, her eyes focused ahead.

Rolling your eyes you let out an irritated huff of air, "Become the djinn's physical vessel, its suicide...and you know it. Even the most powerful of mages cannot harness the true strength and imperium of the djinn, what would compel you to attempt this? What will having a child gain you, in this world of all places?"

She doesn't have time to answer as Jaskier suddenly wakes up with a start, he pushes himself up into a sitting position as he squints from the bright light of the room, "Oh, uh...where am I?" His eyes quickly land on the bare back of Yennefer since he can't see you from behind the thick pulled back curtain, "Whew! Uh...Right. Good. Good. Uh...Not to be untoward or anything...but, did we...you know, do the uh..." She slowly covers her bare torso and chest with her thin golden white top as she turns around to face him and crawl upon the bed, "Ooh, Go...Oh, no! No! Definitely did not butter that biscuit." Rushes Jaskier as he scrambles to get off, you watch as he shuffles past you, his eyes going wide in puzzlement, "Oh hello there Y/N, nice morning huh....oh shit, uh...look lady I'm so sorry, but I've just remembered I left my...cat, on the, stove."

He walks backwards as Yennefer continues her stalk towards him, "I...I uh, we really must going, isn't that right Y/N!" He exclaims as he quickly bends down to put on his shoes. You're not entirely sure how to handle this situation if you're being totally honest, you're not exactly one to stop people from living their dreams, especially if it's Yennefer doing something stupid and you also rather enjoy watching Jaskier piss himself.

Her eyes darken, "Express your deepest desires and you can be on your way." She asserts as her hand picks up a knife from her drawer.

"Well, my deepest desires are currently satisfied, thank you so much." Sputters Jaskier as Yennefer uses her power to slam him against the nearby wall.

"Is this really necessary?" You remark as she focuses on the bard.

"Yes." Is all that comes forth from her lips as she goes to threaten Jaskier, "How's your throat?"

"Uh.." Jaskier gives you a nervous glance before snapping back to the approaching mage.

Smiling wickedly she takes another step closer, "Perhaps you should try some scales."

Jaskier flinches back as the mage grabs a hold of him, "Uh...Toss a coin to your Witcher. O, valley of...penis. Oh, God." He stammers as Yenn grabs his junk in one hand and presses a knife against his throat in the other.

"If you want to keep all you have...make a damn wish." She threatens with malice, Jaskier breathing heavily in fear, he doesn't say anything as he throws pleading eyes your way. Scoffing she lets go of him and instead walks over to kneel down at the circle of burning candles, "Make a damn wish! Do it now!" Shouts the insane witch, an enchanted breeze finding its way into the room even with lack of opened windows.

Jaskier slides down the wall as he looks to you who only shrugs in reply, this is his problem now. He shifts his attention back to the mage, "I don't...I don't know! I wish very badly to leave this place forever!" Cries Jaskier as Yennefer gasps, her breathing going deeper as she begins to chant something in Eldar. The room instantly fills with winds, papers flying across the room at the intrusion.

Holding tightly onto the shaking wooden beam of the bed you glance from Jaskier to Yennefer, "You're fucking crazy Yennefer! This is madness!" She all but ignores you, her chanting getting louder and louder as the magical winds send your hair flying in all directions, "Fuck. Jaskier get out of here while you can, the djinn is close I can feel it!" You scream above the noise, he quickly nods before jumping to his feet and racing out the opened door.

You turn a worried face to Yennefer, "I'm not sure about you but, lets not invite a fucking genie into this place! You don't even own it! And stop speaking Eldar before this dark fucker possesses you!" She doesn't even give you a glance, as right on cue does the black wispy shadow of the djinn seep into the room and hastily flow into her body.

Your eyes go wide at the abrupt turn of events, "Fine. I'll save you myself, fucking mages." You mutter before taking a step forward, in an instant her eyes shoot open to reveal a sickly pink covering the entirety of her whole eyeball, she shoots up a hand and before you have a chance to do anything. Your whole body is thrown back into the hard glass window and straight out into the misty morning air as you free fall towards the grassy courtyard below.

Taken off guard but anticipating the nearing ground, you quickly stop yourself and levitate mere inches from the earth. You lower your feet onto the grass, an annoyed sigh leaving your lips as you pick some glass shards out of your arms and pant legs. You stand in the morning light beginning to rethink your life choices when pained screams are heard from up above, it's Yennefer, she's screaming at Geralt to make a wish so she can finally have all the power. Clearly things are not going well by any means, so instead of leaving her to an inevitable demise like how you'd planned, you fly back up to the broken window and right into the windy chaotic mess of a room.

A pillow nearly misses your head when you arrive just as the djinn screams for Geralt to use his wish on anything that he so desires. You jog over to the circle of candles as his golden eyes find yours, "Just make a fucking wish!" You shout before the djinn compels Yennefer to throw you against the far wall in an act of mindless rage. You're back hits the wood first, your head cracking against it with a thud, ouch.

You fall to the messy floor in a daze, a single trickle of blood falling down the side of your temple as you stand to slowly regain your bearings once again. Although when you look up, it appears that Geralt has spoken his last wish, the wind has dissipated and Yennefer seems to have come around to her mostly normal self.

Breathing heavily from her spot on the floor she turns to you, "Is it over?" She whispers tiredly, "Is it done?"

Sensing movement from the attic you zero in on the noise, "Oh fuck it's still here!" You bellow before the ceiling crumbles and cracks open, wood, stone, metal and whatever else bursting through as the djinn destroys the roof. Your eyes go wide as a large piece of wood breaks away, heading straight for Yennefer, more chunks racing down for Geralt as well.

In a blur you're able to save them both from a suddenly violent death as you rest them against the floor away from the destructive mess happening near the bed and windows. Geralt sits up and scoots back as you rest your old friend upon a soft red and gold pillow, she's asleep from the quick rushed movement you'd just subjected her to. You're going to have to remember that not everyone is very fond of whiplash.

Leaning over her, you lightly shake her arm, "Yennefer. It's me, Y/N. Wake up idiot." Her lavender irises slowly flicker open as you sit back, a sigh of relief leaving your parted lips as you turn to make sure Geralt's alright. He's already asleep on another large blue pillow, so much for the mighty Witcher.

"Wha...what?" She mumbles softly before her eyes open wider in realization, "Y/N why did you stop me! I nearly had it, I was so close and you ruined it, why di..."

Your brows furrow in confusion at her needless outburst, "You had shit, I saved your life! You ungrateful..."

"Oh, well I saved that fucking bard's life and your precious Witcher's...but now he's let the djinn escape! Who knows what havoc it'll wreak now that it has no vessel at all?" She fumes, glaring at you angrily.

Rolling your scarlet eyes at her frustration, you sit down on the carpeted floor, "No more havoc then you. Djinns are only dark creatures when held captive."

"How can you be so sure?" She snaps.

You raise an eyebrow at her, "When did you last feel happy when you felt trapped? And besides, if you were going to portal us to safety, you could have taken us out of this shit town!"

Yennefer huffs in annoyance, "A fine critique if you could make a portal yourself. Or better yet, turn into a giant bat and fly us away from here...and it wasn't a shit town, it was fine till you and your two incompetent imbeciles came along. I had a plan!" She exclaims pointedly as you begin to chuckle.

Her glare hard pressed as you smirk, "And that was going rather swimmingly!"

"It was!" Snaps Yennefer, "Like a drowning fish." She looks to you with angry eyes, her fire slowly brimming as a smile breaks out onto her face.

"More like a dead and dry one." You muse with a laugh as you frown, "oh gods look at us, how'd we ever get here huh....from Aretuza to the destroyed aftermath of a fucking djinn."

Her face falters for a moment as she thinks over your words, "Who can say? Bad choices perhaps, maybe we do it to ourselves for the fun of it."

"Maybe you're just a thrill seeker." She gives you a half offended glare as you simply stick your tongue out at her, "But we've survived nonetheless, I'll take that as a promising sign for the time being."

"I guess that means something then." She looks down to her hands, a downcast expression crossing her sweaty features, "I am glad to have seen you again in all honesty, it's just been a very long while since I've seen anyone familiar." Admits the violet eyed mage.

You shrug, "Or tolerable?"

"Yes, or tolerable. My life at court was...almost all for naught, I feel like I didn't do anything worth my time there....even got a knife through my shoulder when the Queen I was accompanying was killed by an assassin. I was done." She explains with a frown, you can tell something else about it bothers her, but you'd rather not press your curiosity.

"The things I miss when I'm elsewhere. Who needs a life at court anyway...I on the other hand was never meant to rule a castle. Perhaps it's a good thing my mother won't ever age, or die. And I have my freedom to roam the Continent as I please, a free woman bound by nothing but what I choose, and so I have." She gives you a downcast smile.

"I almost envy you Y/N. Truly. Now if only I could know what your Witcher happened to have wished for, but I'd rather not wake him. He almost looks peaceful in a sleeping bear kind of way." She adds while looking behind you at a snoozing Geralt, his chest slowly rising and falling with each soft breath.

You turn a loving gaze upon him, "Guess he does, doesn't he? Like a grimy sweaty mess of a man...my big grumpy bear." You muse, your eyes studying his face lovingly as a sudden idea comes to mind, you turn back to Yennefer with a mischievous smirk, "You know what, the bards recently single..."

Her face is almost a grimace as she shakes her head, "I'll take my chances elsewhere. But thank you Y/N, always watching out for me, usually pretty shit advice most often." She jests while rising to her feet, "I must be off before the town comes for my head, see you around...hopefully under better circumstances and with less destructive endings." You stand to your full height, a couple inches taller then Yennefer.

You both lean in for a parting hug, "Goodbye, Yennefer." Letting go of one another she hands you a small smile, "Try not to get killed Y/N."

"You. Try not to get involved with, well, you know." She nods before turning around and opening up a portal to some sunny ocean side market, you watch as she walks through it without another word, and off into the unknown she goes.

Yawning and feeling slightly off put from the whole ordeal, you turn to look over at Geralt, he's still out cold on the giant fluffy blue pillow. You smile adoringly at him before scooting yourself over, finally letting yourself rest near his peacefully sleeping form as you wait patiently for him to wake.

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