#Also not dying alone is good too and certainly brought him comfort

[polyjoly]

We don't talk enough about Grantaire's choice to die from Enjolras' point of view.

I think it meant so so much to Enjolras. Think about it, everything Enjolras believed in just failed. He watched all his friends die in a fight he led them in. The people did not rise. He must have been thinking he was wrong, wondering if there was ever any point in anything he did.

Then Grantaire shows up. The man who disagreed with him, the skeptic who didn't believe in anything, shows up and says he does believe in the revolution and is willing to die for it.

Grantaire is proof that everything Enjolras did was not in vain. He made a believer out of the faithless. The people of Paris might not have risen to their cause, but this one single person did raise up, and someday, others will to.

The revolution didn't happen then, but it would happen eventually. Grantaire is evidence of that.

[neon-kazoo]

Nobody But You

I was too late.

I knew this as certain as I knew the Sun would rise in the morning. It was confirmed by the burning of my lungs as I breathed in the smoke and ashes that were once the people and place I had come to save. Stray embers kicked up by my boots singed the skin of my bare arms, making my failure all too evident as I traipsed through the fresh graveyard that used to be my home. I ignored the pain, and continued undeterred. It was nothing compared to what had happened to them. I was supposed to save them, the least I could do was stay and watch them burn.

My foot connected unexpectedly with the hard shell of what I could only assume to be bone. Tears sprung to my eyes, but I blamed the burning on the inhospitable environment and blinked them away. I already knew they were all dead, a reminder should mean nothing to me. I tried to focus straight ahead and keep moving, but instead my eyes connected with the remains of a charred doll with blonde hair dyed dark with soot and burned short by fire. It wore clothes of bright colors, standing out against the grey and black that blanketed the ground as far as I could see. A perfect mirror.

I loosed a scream of anguish that left my throat rawer than before. The sound carried wide across the open plain. It didn’t matter.

There was no one here but me.

No one but me-

And Him.

A figure stood tall and alone on the other side of what should have been a joyful place full of people, full of children, full of families, full of couples, full of love-

I had never been in love.

I had never been anywhere close, never so much as kissed a peer in school behind the gym, never held hands with the neighbor under the big oak tree, never confessed crushes with my best friend during a late-night sleepover.

I wondered, now, what it was really like.

How did it feel to carry another in your heart, to be connected so intimately? Was it heavy? How did it feel to be carried in the heart of another, to trust so deeply? Was it freeing?

I knew of butterflies, the so-described fluttering of the stomach that sounded curiously close to fear. Fear, I had felt before. I knew it well.

Now, however, I felt no fear. There was nothing left to fear; the worst had already happened.

When I found myself standing in front of the man responsible for destroying everything I had ever known, there were no butterflies. The only thing I felt in my stomach now was a deep, cavernous pit.

I longed for comfort, for warmth, for the chatter and bustling that should have surrounded me here. Instead, I heard only a solitary voice, smug and victorious.

“How does it feel? To lose?”

Heavy.

I heard once that, sometimes, love hurts. I was definitely hurting now.

Certainly, it was not supposed to feel like this, tinged with a festering hatred, full of a craving for anything, and topped with inexperience and confusion.

I looked into his darkened eyes, reflective of what he had done. We were close, too close for being in such a vast and empty place.

I did not know what love felt like, but I knew what it felt to be desperate for it.

Although I knew this wasn’t right, that this was no where near ‘good’ or ‘healthy’ or ‘normal’ or true love, I also knew it was as close as I would ever get.

I was out of time. For me, there was no later, there was no where else, there was no one else.

Not anymore.

And so, when I found a pair of lips hovering so very close to mine, I closed my eyes and shut out the decimated landscape. In that moment, I could almost believe that this wasn’t the same man that guaranteed I would never get the chance to experience the very thing we were pretending to have. We kissed, and he held me close with the very same hands that brought such catastrophic loss and devastation into my life. I let myself fall into the feeling, get lost in the touches—wrong as it all was.

Freedom.

It was over.

[mischief-lies-and-stories]

Why Kid Loki's Backstory in Loki Proves (More Than Anything Else) That the Writers Don't Understand Loki's Character

I've mostly already talked about this in a theory around Kid Loki, but now I'm going in a comic-heavy rant direction with it. Spoilers for Loki, Journey into Mystery, Immortal Thor, King Thor, and possibly more.

So Kid Loki in the show says he's taken in by the TVA for killing Thor. It is not clear whether Thor is also a child at this point in the timeline, or (as in my theory) this is Kid Loki from Journey into Mystery, a Kid Loki from our Loki's future (a future that hasn't happened yet in the main timeline of the MCU). Which would mean that the Thor he kills is an adult (probably. The future MCU option could deviate from Journey into Mystery and mean Thor is also a younger, reincarnated iteration of himself).

In the comics, the closest Kid Loki comes to killing Thor is 1., in Journey into Mystery, when he influences events during a battle to end the bloodshed by helping bring about Thor's sacrifice for the greater good. If he had not died, the battle would have gone on and led to more terrible destruction for Asgard. 2., In AoA, after "Kid Loki" ages up in Young Avengers, when he stabs Thor with Gram in order to free him from Loki's evil future self, who has hitched a ride inside Thor as a symbiote-like parasite.

In JiM, Loki privately and very deeply mourns Thor's death. (He also does so publicly, but in a way to avoid the suspicion of Asgard that he had something to do with Thor's death. But then the Asgardians go away and he's left alone, and he cries.) He knows what needed to be done, but he has lost his brother, his protector, his friend. He loves him. He is often shown throughout JiM to care about Thor. He calls for him instinctively when something he summons turns on him. He tries to make Thor promise to kill him if he goes bad again. He names his dog after him.

In Immortal Thor, we are reminded that Thor sought out Kid Loki, Thor awoke the piece of dormant soul inside him, Thor brought him back to himself and home to Asgard. Kid Loki would never kill Thor. Unless he had to.

Likewise, in King Thor, most of the comic is Loki, armed with the Necrosword, fighting Thor. Yet even here, even influenced by the elder god of the symbiotes themself, he cannot bring himself to annihilate Thor. (Now, he certainly does a good job of trying, even when he isn't as much under All-Black's influence. He makes an effort, I'm not discounting that. I'm not saying he's pretending to kill him, but in the end there's a shift.)

At a certain point, it stops being about Thor vs. Loki and the fight of an Asgardian lifetime. At a certain point, Loki very nearly gives it up, and Thor lets him. Loki says that it's too late, but not for their bond, not for a truce between them. It's too late to end this fight, because Loki has unleashed All-Black back into the universe, and it is too powerful even on its own for Loki to contain or control.

But the important thing here is that Loki stops. He stops fighting Thor. He stops trying to kill him. And when all hope is lost, as All-Black devours them, drowning them in despair and its own viscous, all-consuming darkness, Thor reaches for Loki, and Loki reaches back.

And this is a comic. We can make assumptions based on what we know about these characters, but at the end of the day, this is a comic, a stationary form of visual storytelling. Meaning that the panel portraying this moment does not display the first reaching hand, and so we cannot truly know who reaches for whom first. The important thing is that Loki reaches, too, but he could easily have reached out first.

Therefore, if Loki can reach for his brother, for comfort and peace and a promise of tomorrow, when all hope and light is dying around him, when he's about to die himself in a universe-ending disaster of his own making, centuries and millennia into a future of antagonism and villainy and sibling rivalry played out on a cosmic scale, then why the hell would he ever truly kill Thor as an eleven-year-old?

Aside from the shock factor (for both the main Loki and the viewers), it makes absolutely no sense. And if the writers cannot even comprehend that this would never happen, not in any universe (JiM and King Thor have nothing to do with each other, yet are connected by this one truth), no matter what Loki may claim, then why should they be expected to know anything else about Loki's character?

[missymurphy1985]

The Writer (Tommy Shelby X Fem.Reader) - Part One

Warning - SMUT (eventually)

Request? Yes

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @peakyciills @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @noctvrnalmoth @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @cilleveryone @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06 @heidimoreton

You looked in the mirror, straightening out your dress and taking a deep breath. Your boss David, who also happened to be your older brother, had arranged a meeting with you in the offices of the Birmingham Herald at 6pm sharp.

On the way there, you couldn't help but marvel at how you'd ended up here. Your husband had died two years after returning from war having suffered severe injuries, and after you'd taken on his job at the Herald while he was away fighting, falling ill on his return and subsequently dying, your brother, the editor, had kept you on so you weren't destitute. It was against all the principles of the time, a woman working, but your brother never once allowed the other men at the newspaper to talk down to you. You were the best storyteller and strongest journalist they had on the books and he would always have your back. The other men had grown to look at you as a sister almost - you were blessed to be in the position you were in.

Arriving at the Herald, you made your way to David's office.

"Y/n, I'm sorry to call you in this evening..." He smiled, embracing you and offering you a whiskey which you gladly accepted.

"I never have evening plans David, you know that. What was so important it couldn't wait til morning?"

"We've had an incredible offer and I want you to be the one to report it. The story is made for you."

"What is it?"

"Thomas Shelby has agreed to an article on his life to date!"

"Thomas Shelby? As in the Peaky Blinders?! Not a fucking chance David..." You recoiled in horror. You knew the man's history very well, you'd gone to school with his younger brother John and the stories of the Peaky Blinders were infamous. You hated the man - the thought of interviewing him mad your stomach turn.

"This story could launch your career into the big time Y/n! Think about it! The most secretive, elusive man in the country wants to tell his story to you!"

"To the Herald."

"No, y/n, to YOU. He asked for you. By name."

"How the hell does he know my name?" You'd written your articles under a male pen name so as not to distract readers from the content. Not all men were as modern as your brother and coworkers.

"No idea, but he specifically asked for you."

You mind turned - no one knew you worked at the Herald. You'd kept yourself to yourself, even moving out of Small Heath after your husband passed away. You'd lost touch with John just before he went off to war. There was no connection to the Shelby family at all.

"The reason I dragged you in at 6pm is because he wants to make a start today. This evening actually, there's a car picking you up in 30 minutes."

"David!! I can't do this interview for goodness sake, I'm not even close to prepared!"

"You have 30 minutes! Pull your finger out!" He laughed.

You'd crammed as much as possible in that 30 minutes as you could - your mind was whirring at 70miles per hour when the silver Bentley pulled up outside. Glaring at David, who simply smirked in response, you got in the car as the driver greeted you.

"Arrow House ma'am, won't take long to get there," the driver smiled as you asked him where he was taking you. Arrow House? His home? Why would the most secretive man in Birmingham want to meet you in his sanctuary?

************************************************************

Pulling up outside the huge mansion, you couldn't help but be impressed. The gardens were immaculate.

A middle aged lady greeted you at the front door and offered to take your coat. You smiled and handed it over, as she led you through to the dining room. You took the seat she offered.

"Would you like some tea Ms. Y/L/N?" You nodded, and she signalled one of the younger maids to action.

"Mr Shelby will be with you in a moment, please make yourself comfortable," the lady smiled warmly and headed out the door with your coat. You looked around the room. A large painting on one wall of the man himself with a large horse. There was a smaller picture on a cabinet just underneath that caught your eye. A beautiful blond woman, with piercing eyes and a loving smile, holding a small boy in her arms. You didn't know Thomas was married, let alone had a son. The house didn't seem to have much of a feminine feel to it though, it was borderline drab in its decor.

"My wife, Grace. And my son Charles." A voice behind you startled you, and you turned to see Thomas himself walking towards you, a glass of whiskey in one hand, a cigarette in the other.

"She's beautiful, Mr Shelby. And your son is adorable," you smiled, but he didn't return it.

"She certainly was." Your eyes grew wide as the realisation of what he'd said sunk in.

"Oh I'm sorry -"

"No need. It was a long time ago. Shall we get this over with Ms Y/L/N?" You nodded and he led you out of the dining room into a smaller one - clearly an office. The large oak desk sprawled out in front of the bay window. You took your seat opposite his at the desk and pulled out your pen and pad as he poured himself another whiskey. You shook your head when he offered you one, drinking the tea the young maid have brought in to you instead.

Your questions for him were simple at first. You asked about his childhood in Small Heath. His schooling. His childhood friends. Pretty much all one word answers, driving you insane, until you asked about his brothers.

"You knew John, didn't you?" He asked.

"Yes. Same year at school."

"Sadly, he's no longer with us. Shot by the Italians last year." You heart dropped - you heard through the grapevine that John had children and a wife and the news hit you like a freight train. You took a breath and a moment to compose yourself.

"I'm so sorry Mr Shelby..."

"I'm sorry too, I didn't realise you were so close?"

"We were close before the war. Lost touch after that."

"I don't remember seeing you with him?"

"My father wouldn't let me see him, so we had to be careful.."

"You and John were..."

"No no.. god no! Just friends Mr Shelby." He went quiet again, and sipped his whiskey.

Back to the questions. Mundane as they were, you needed them to get the full story. He wasn't forthcoming with the details. You had to really press him, but he spent most of his time drinking his whiskey and looking out of the window at the dark clouds rolling in outside.

"Listen, Mr Shelby, you clearly don't want this any more than I do so please, if you don't mind, I'd like to end the interview here." Your voice was stern, patience had officially gone out of the window he was so fixated with.

"Jack said you were feisty." You froze at mention of your late husband's name.

"How did you know Jack?"

"We served together in France. Good man."

"Is that how you knew my name?" He didn't answer, just nodded, again watching the weather changing quickly outside.

"Storm looks bad."

"If I leave now I should be fine." The first rumble of thunder made you jump, Tommy noticed your fear instantly.

"Scared of storms?"

"They used to scare Jack.." a second rumble had you grasping onto the chair.

"Stay until it passes." Was that a request or an order.. you weren't sure but he took your hand gently and led you into the hallway away from the window, into the main dining room again.

"Frances, have the curtains closed please." He spoke to the older woman who greeted you at the door and she dutifully obliged, closing the curtains in the large windows.

Tommy sat you at the table and gave you his glass of whiskey, your shaky hands accepting it this time. Every thunderstorm brought flashbacks of Jack's terror filled eyes.. his anguished cries of pain.. and ultimately the sound of the gun he placed at his temple before he took his own life. You took a sip of the warm liquid as Tommy sat beside you, a fresh glass of his own in his hand.

"Jack saved my life."

"He did?"

"Yes. We were underground digging.. we could hear the Germans on the other side of the dirt digging towards us... They broke through first and grabbed me. Jack beat them to death with his hammer to get them off me." Tommy's memory made you smile, and you laughed gently.

"He was always brave.. and strong. Put everyone else first. He never told me.."

"He never wanted praise, it was just part of his job. In return.. I said if anything happened to him I would make sure you were looked after."

"What?"

"The men at your office? They're under my watch. They respect you because you're a damn good writer, but they also know if they gave you any shit..." He raised his eyebrow and you couldn't help but smile. Even after his death, he was making sure you were okay. That was the Jack you wanted to remember.

"In that case Mr Shelby, I thank you."

"Call me Tommy eh? Here's to the bravest man in France." He clinked his glass with yours and you felt him almost begin to relax.

"I noticed a piano in the hall - do you play?"

"I did as a boy. My mother was a keen player, I used to watch her all the time. Gave it up after she died."

"I played for Jack all the time. It soothed him when he couldn't sleep." He smiled, a warm genuine smile that you couldn't help but return.

You'd spent the evening drinking whiskey and talking with Tommy, the whiskey hitting you much quicker than it did him, and you could feel your eyelids growing heavier.

"I have a spare room upstairs y/n, maybe stay tonight, I'll have my driver take you home in the morning." He stood before you had chance to argue and you followed him up the stairs.

He led you into a beautiful bedroom, the decor in here much more appealing than downstairs and the large oak double bed even more so.

"I don't want to impose Thomas..."

"That storm isn't letting up any time soon, and you're exhausted. You're welcome to stay. There's fresh clothes in the wardrobe. My wife was the same build as you, they should fit. I'll have my driver take you home at 7am. Goodnight Y/n..." His blue eyes lingered on yours a moment and you felt a rush of something you hadn't felt in a long time... Scaring you. Quickly looking away, you bid him goodnight.

[lonely-lost-soul]

Where Loyalties Lie

(Technoblade X reader) 

Request 3: Can we get a little angsty fic or headcanon of Techno trying to get the reader to leave L’manberg?

Requested By: Anonymous

~~~

     “Tubbo please take a deep breath,” You followed him around the rubble as he paced restlessly. 

     “I’m president of a crater (Y/n)!” The boy pulled on his ears with a loud whine, “What am I gonna do. I can’t believe Wilbur blew it up-” He felt your hands touch his own and gently pull them away from his oversensitive goat ears. “What am I gonna do? I-I’m a kid…” You frowned, moving to cup his cheek with your hand. He nuzzled into it desperately, welcoming the comforting touch of someone who he considered family. 

     “You’re going to get through it because you’re strong.” You told him, “and so brave little ram.” He flushed pink letting out a whine of protest especially because he was still surrounded by most of his friends. 

You watch as Quackity walked over to the both of you and placed his hand on Tubbo’s shoulder squeezing it, “We’ll rebuild. We’ll be right behind you Tubbo.” He smiled at the kid and you couldn’t help but smile over at him. 

     “Thank you both. Truly.” 

There was one thing that had you were worried you may come to regret, and that was not taking Technoblade’s hand as he fled from the country. You were close almost touching it, he looked like he wanted to beg for you too but one desperate cry from Tubbo had you pulling away. He looked heartbroken but at the same time, you saw understanding in his deep red eyes. 

Family came first. 

That day he pulled you close pressing a soft kiss on your forehead, “I’ll be back for you.” 

You murmured a soft I’m sorry, turning to find Tubbo to make sure he wasn’t injured or dying. The thoughts of the festival replaying in your head, you couldn’t go through that...not again especially because now Tubbo was officially on his last life. Tommy couldn’t fathom how you didn’t blame Technoblade for what happened that day, but to you, two things were clear: one was that Tubbo didn’t blame him which made it easier on your end to forgive him; two Schlatt was manipulative and overwhelming as fuck you can’t blame someone for something they were peer pressured into doing. Speaking of Tommy you ended up finding Tubbo and him in the rubble that day, the taller male was pressing cloth to Tubbo’s bleeding arm desperately, when you took over and Tommy seemed grateful. 

However, you had to push your possible regrets aside and focus on the new nation you’d help build, and build it you did. You worked endlessly for months on end creating a lovely new nation for people to live in, Tubbo had dubbed it New L’manburg. You felt his pride and happiness, he just loved seeing everyone together again and happy once again. Finally, the server felt somewhat normal after all that destruction, even if there was a Techno-shaped hole in your heart. Things changed rather quickly when Tubbo was, in your eyes, manipulated to exile Tommy by Dream. You had tried to argue for the boy saying that not only was he Tubbo’s friend but just a kid. You were shut down harshly by not only Dream but Tubbo as well, the look in his eyes was filled with so much loathing and frustration. It’s the first time he ever snapped and was harsh to you, you felt your own frustration bubble up in your chest. You turned on your heel and marched back up into your house, you were not going to put up with this behavior. When you slammed the door shut, and turned around to find Technoblade standing in your living room,  with your cat purring fondly on his shoulders; you almost screamed.

     “Heh- why are you scared it’s just me?” The hybrid complained his nose scrunching up, “Don’t be cringe- oof-” Techno grunted as you threw your arms around his waist, the man flushed to the tips of his ears and looked away from you, Taffy hopped off his shoulders disgruntledly, “Yeah, yeah, I missed you too.” He pet the top of your head tenderly and you looked up at him with a smile. 

     “What’re you doing here Tech? If Tubbo finds out he’ll have your head.” 

     “Then I guess we’ll just have to make sure he doesn’t find me then huh?” He mused lips, quirking into a smile, and you nodded in agreement. “Other than that just running some errands. I’m in retirement now you know. I have to say that ‘New L’Manburg’ is certainly a name.” He did air quotes around the name and you nudged him, 

     “Be nice.”

     “Boo Cringe. I’m a Blood God starlight. I don’t do nice.” 

     “Bullshit,” You punched him in the arm, “Tea?” 

     “Please.” He cracked a smile as you walked over to your tea kettle heating the water and grabbing some tea bags. 

     “So, you came here to run some errands huh? I almost thought you missed me?” Technoblade shuffled a little behind you, how could you read him so perfectly? It was complete and utter bullshit. You heard him click his tongue distastefully behind you and you couldn’t help but smirk cheekily,

     “Get off my back woman.” He stated gruffly as you laughed, “but I guess I do miss you a little bit.” You smiled fondly and softly cooed at him and he let out another scoff, 

     “A little bit?”

     “What is this interrogation? You a cop now?” You placed his tea in front of him and he took a sip,

     “Yeah, we’re gonna need to do a strip search. Drop your pants.” Technoblade choked on his drink, face turning the darkest shade of red you’ve ever seen from him. You howled with laughter sliding down in your seat beside the man. 

     “I changed my mind. I didn’t miss you at all, you’re a terror.”

     “You love me, admit it.”

     “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He murmured looking at you with a sudden softness that was out of character for him. You didn’t notice the change but it was there, oh if only you knew how much of what you said was true. He did love you. He ran his tongue across his teeth and reached out to interlock your hands within his own. 

     “Come live with me.” 

     “Tech…”

     “I’m in retirement now. I’m going to get some turtles hopefully, maybe some other pets while I’m at it. There’s a lot of room...It gets lonely all alone you know. It’d be nice to have you there with me.” He watched hesitance flicker across your face again just like the day Wilbur blew up L’Manburg. Your thoughts went to Tubbo and how much he needed you, especially now that Tommy was exiled. However, you were also brought back to a few moments ago where Tubbo snapped at you for trying to help. You took a ragged breath and pushed his hand away, he frowned sadly bringing his hand back down to his lap. 

     “I need to be here for Tubbo. He’s a kid Tech...way over his head. Dreams sniffing around him like a dog looking for his next victim to manipulate. I can’t let that happen, not to him. I know he’s President of this nation and you hate him for that, but he’s my brother and I love him. He’s a tough kid with a lot of fire, but I can’t just leave him in the dust. I love you,” You reached up and cupped his cheek and Technoblade felt his cheeks burn at the implication, “but I can’t leave until Tubbo is safe.” 

     “I’ll convince you one day.” Technoblade shot back even though his heart ached, that you wouldn’t be coming home with him. But Technoblade wasn’t known for giving up. He was stubborn as hell, he’d win you over yet. You’d come home with him, he’d confess to you and he’d make you the happiest person in the world. You just...didn’t know it yet. 

     “I’m excited for the day you do Tech.” You snickered softly, you both were startled by harsh knocking on the door.

     “That’s my cue. See you soon Starlight,” Technoblade hummed slipping right out the window, you watched him go longingly. You shuffled towards the door and opened it slowly, on the front steps stood Tubbo who was rocking nervously on his feet. 

     “Hi…” 

     “Hey LR...you okay?” Tilting your head to the side,

     “Is LR supposed to stand for little ram?”

     “Problem?”

     “No…I suppose not.” He murmured before clearing his throat and straightening his back, “I wanted to talk with you.” 

     “Oh?” You raised an eyebrow watching him nod his head sternly, you walked outside and closed the door behind you so you could lean on it. “Shoot,”

You watched as Tubbo swallowed thickly, “First off I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier. It wasn’t fair of me to snap.” He watched you nod a little urging him to continue, “however, I am the President now and you have to respect my authority.” Eyebrows furrowing together in frustration you opened your mouth to counter him but he held up his hand, “Dream has an idea of how to rule. He can steer me in a better direction-”

     “Pardon me?” You let out a disbelieving laugh, “A better direction? Tubbo, are you forgetting everything we all fought for, we fought him for independence. He killed us!” 

     “He might’ve changed!”

     “He exiled Tommy!” 

     “He deserved it!” Tubbo shouted back as your nose scrunched up, “He’ll steer me in a direction that you never could!” He snapped before realizing what he said, he slapped his hands over his mouth eyes widening to the size of saucers. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that-” 

     “Go home Tubbo.” 

     “(Y/n) please,” He reached out towards you and you held up your hand, 

     “Go reset the day. You need rest,” You frowned, turning back into the house “see you tomorrow.” Inside the house you shut the door on him and slid down onto the floor, you brought your hands to your mouth and swallowed thickly. A part of you wished Technoblade was still here just so he could tell you to get over yourself, he wasn’t skilled in the art of comforting others, but he could make you laugh. To keep yourself sane you reminded yourself that Tubbo was a child and needed you now more than ever, especially if he thought Dream was dishing out good advice. But you were hurt and a selfish part of you wished you could just go live in retirement with Technoblade and not worry about the new country forming, but you couldn’t ditch Tubbo. 

Running a hand through your hair you sighed loudly, one might wonder what exactly could Tubbo do to make you listen to Technoblade’s offer. Honestly, you had no idea if anything would make you do that unless of course they just started executing people or something ridiculous like that. 

Restless was how you’d describe the rest of your night, you tried to sleep but after a few hours of tossing and turning you gave up. You decided to make yourself a ‘healthy’ midnight snack, a small bowl of mac & cheese, you didn’t care, you were sad. You sighed softly scratching behind your cat’s ears, “It’s just you and me against the world Taffy isn’t it?” Her purrs rang in the air as she snuggled against your hand, distracting you just enough to swipe a noddle from your bowl. “You fat bitch!” You hissed as she ran off back up the stairs, you leaned back in your chair and sighed, literally nothing was going your way today. Just as you finished up your snack you heard a soft ping upon your window, turning to the sound you noticed your neighbor Phil awake in his house. He held up a hand and waved at you through it, and with a small smile, you waved back. He shuffled back into his home, I guess you both were insomniacs together, Techno knew how to pick a certain type of friend it seemed. 

You walked back up to your bedroom and slid under the covers once more, maybe you were wrong and things were going to get better. 

Months went by and nothing seemed to change much to your disappointment. Tubbo and you were still a little rocky, you had forgiven him for his harsh words but he always put Dream’s and even Quackity’s opinion before your own. When you came back from visiting Niki one day and saw wanted posters of Technoblade all around the country you almost had a stroke. You confronted Tubbo about it and only half answered you before running off when Quackity called him. That worried you, he normally didn’t like lying, especially not to you. 

The same day you were walking into the market to get some fresh fruit when a hand shot out from the wanted poster and pulled you behind it. You were held flush against someone’s chest who chuckled gruffly, you recognized that chuckle anywhere. “Techno! What’re you doing here?” You asked looking up at him with eyes filled with concern, “don’t you know you’re a wanted man?”

     “I think that just makes this all the more exciting.” Techno mused running his fingers through your hair, “Plus it’s not like anyone here can catch me.” 

     “Wrong I could catch you.” He dared to laugh in your face, 

     “Sure you could, and I’m half sheep.” Technoblade mused and he watched you huff cutely, “Don’t get all huffy at me you know I’m right.” You only waved him off, “seriously though I’m here to do some trading with Phil.”

     “Oh…” You gave a nod, “Will I see you more frequently then?”

     “You could see me all the time if you moved in with me.” Techno joked again and was surprised to see your face fall a little. Are you serious? Was he getting you to crack? “Starlight?” 

     “Ask me again in a few months and I might say yes,” You teased brushing the question off swiftly, Technoblade didn’t pry but he could tell you were almost convinced. Just what was going on in this country to make you want to leave your little brother? “Now shoo, go see Phil before he gives up on you.” You gave him a little shove and he stumbled off with a huff sticking his tongue out at you in the process. 

After that encounter, you didn’t run into Technoblade for another very long stretch of time. About a month or so after that encounter, Tubbo had shown up at your doorstep a complete nervous wreck. He begged you to help him, claiming he needed diamonds for an upcoming project and wanted you to acquire them for him. “Tubbo I don’t understand why I need to go on this trip? I have diamonds I can just give you. You know I don’t care.” 

     “But I feel bad about it,” Tubbo argued with you “please just do this for me.”

     “You know I’ll do anything for you. If you want me to get them this way I’ll do it. I should be back tonight is that okay? Do you need them sooner?” Tubbo looked relieved as he took your hands in his own, 

     “No tonight is perfect!” The boy chirped sounding more like himself than he has in months, you couldn’t help but smile. You ruffled his hair a little before kissing his forehead, 

     “Then tonight you shall have them, Little Ram.” 

Tubbo helped you gather the materials you needed for a trip down into the mines, Tubbo even gave you some fire resistance potions. You thanked him for the potions before putting on your armor and heading down into the tunnels. As you were down in the mine the concept of time was always an illusion, so when you finally found diamonds for Tubbo and you left the cave you were surprised to see the sun was just setting. You hummed softly to yourself walking back into New L’manburg excited to show off to Tubbo you couldn’t help but wonder what he needed them for in the first place. However, when you entered town you were greeted by a gathering going on at the center. Everyone seemed to be there clad in what looked to be butcher’s outfits, your vibe was immediately thrown off eyebrows furrowing in concern. Quackity was giving some sort of speech and that finally drew your eyes towards the podium, locked inside a cage was a fuming Technoblade. You rushed towards the group, pushing past Ghostbur and a blue sheep, and grabbed tightly onto Tubbo’s arm. 

     “Tubbo what the fuck is happening?” He tensed turning towards your face. It was no secret that you and Techno were friends, this wasn’t good at all.

     “(Y/n)! You’re back early!” He spoke nervously rubbing his hands together as Quackity turned towards you, 

     “Welcome back!” Quackity hopped off the podium with a smirk, “Fundy grab them.” 

     “Quackity hey wait a minute-” Tubbo started as Fundy roughly grabbed onto your arms pinning you in place, 

     “Ow hey! Watch it! Let go of me!”

     “Get your hands off them!” Technoblade snarled nostrils flaring grabbing the bars of the cage tightly. 

     “Quackity you said we’d leave them out of this!” Tubbo argued and your jaw dropped staring at Tubbo, “You promised!” 

He waved Tubbo off with a scoff, “they’re just as bad as Phil, Tubbo. She needs to be punished. We can't play favorites when trying to run a country. We’ll execute Techno then deal with the other traitors.”

     “Execute?” You choked, “you can’t be serious! Tubbo you cannot be serious, since when are you okay with public executions?” He refused to look at you, his hair covering his eyes, he only nodded his head in Quackity’s direction. 

     “Do it.” 

     “Tubbo!” You shrieked watching Quackity grin maliciously, moving over to pull the lever that would allow the anvil to fall and crush the man below it. 

What happened next was a cluster fuck, someone began trying to set off TNT, and Quackity pulled the lever. It fell rapidly towards Techno and he pulled something out of his pocket, in a flash of bright colors and bursts of light Technoblade was ripped apart and pulled back together again. He was alive, Technoblade really doesn’t ever die. He hopped on top of the anvil and jumped the bars of the cage, Fundy had long since lost his grip on you, he noticed Dream ushering him inside a cavern and he paused a moment. The hybrid turned towards you holding out his hand one final time, the world seemed to stop a moment and it was just you and him. His face held a desperate look in it, almost pleading you to take his hand within your own. You flashed back to the day Wilbur blew the country up, Tubbo called your name you glanced over your shoulder once towards Little Ram. You reached into your bag and dropped the diamonds you found for him on the ground, you grabbed Technoblade’s hand and squeezed it tightly. Technoblade smiled and yanked you forward, leaving a heartbroken Tubbo in your wake.

[crimsonophelia]

hello basil!!! i’m the anon that sent the original request of reader being a big dumb dumb and accidentally mailing their love letters to childe in liyue—i personally just wanted to tell you that i absolutely LOVED what you wrote and that i’m so happy and grateful you did my request justice. keep up the good work!!!

if you wouldn’t mind, could i request for a hurt/comfort angst with kaeya and a gn reader? the reader is a fellow knight of favonius that regularly gets dunked on by their friends for their crush on the cavalry captain—but every time their friends insist they confess to him, they joke that “sure, i’ll tell him when i die.” and then they actually nearly die.

while on a mission with kaeya, something terrible happens that seemingly pushes the reader to the brink of death. they’re in his arms and convinced they’re about to die, so with their “dying” breath, they tell kaeya that they’re in love with him before the world goes black.

but then they wake up. 👁 (you know the drill—what happens next is completely up to you!!!)

featuring: kaeya x gn!reader

warnings: good ol' angst, some descriptions of blood, lots of typos lol

published: may 27, 2021

form: imagine

a/n: hi anon!! i'm glad you liked that imagine www and thank you for sending me ideas again! you know how much i love angst and kaeya lol~ also please forgive me for making it so long, i tried to challenge my writing abilities a bit more.

You came into this mission knowing that it would be quite a bit more difficult than the ones you typically took on. You were merely a B-rank knight, working on your certification to reach A-rank status, which definitely was not an easy feat. Yet the open commission to investigate a newly-uncovered set of ruins in Dadaupa Gorge was requiring one more member of the dual-member expedition team. When you saw who had occupied the first position for the mission, you threw caution to the wind and signed your name for position two, despite the mission being ranked A-level, at the very least. The occupied position? Filled by none other than Kaeya Alberich, captain of the Knights of Favonius cavalry, S-rank soldier and swordsman, and your former mentor. Who also happened to be the man you had hopelessly fallen for. 

The mission was assigned by the headquarters of the Knights, specifically for fully-trained Knights only, as the nature of the mission would be too dangerous for your run-of-the-mill adventurer team, and the Knights did not want to be held accountable for any potential casualties or injuries as a result of a mission gone wrong. You and Kaeya had been assigned to go investigate a newly-uncovered set of ruins in the Whispering Woods, supposedly already showing signs of being an Abyss rendezvous point. Apparently, the team of archaeologists who uncovered the ancient rocks from behind a thicket of trees had had many difficulties even making it back to the city of Mondstadt alive. You were frightened, no doubt about it, but you also knew that this was your chance. Your chance to prove yourself and your capability as a knight. Back in your training days before you took the certification exam to become a knight, you were Kaeya’s favorite pupil, a star student. Also possessing a Cryo vision, like the captain himself, certainly did not hurt your reputation in his eyes. Now, having taken on and excelled at countless dangerous B-rank missions, you felt confident in your ability to take on a mere A-rank mission, especially with the captain of the cavalry at your side. 

You had almost forgotten about the icy presence at your side, lost in your own daydreams of ambition. After following the paths leading out of Mondstadt, weapons and supplies ready at hand, you and Kaeya had finally made it to the edge of the Whispering Woods. It was starting to get dark, even though the two of you had left reasonably early in the day. The woods seemed so much more vast when their shadows grew longer, waning by the last seams of daylight. Faint howling moaned through the leaves (”Wolves? In the Whispering Woods?”, you thought to yourself), and you felt yourself tremble in the slightest. You couldn’t tell if it was due to the fear or the overwhelmingly strong Cryo aura that Kaeya emitted.

The tall man seemed unaffected by the ominous surrounding, forever carrying himself with an unwavering assuredness. He looked onwards, into the woods, eyes darting back and forth, exhibiting the remarkable surveying skills of a seasoned knight. 

“Well, [y/n]”, Kaeya turned to you, with that smug yet rather comforting voice of his. “Are you ready?”

Kaeya’s unshakeable confidence was rather spiriting, you had to admit. Nothing like traipsing into a wild forest, overrun with archons-know-what, with only your own wits and a cunning, distractingly handsome knight to guide you. 

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose”, you replied, trying to hide the rookie anxiety from trembling your voice. Damn it, you weren’t even a rookie. You were one of the more experienced knights in the entire Knights of Favonius. You could handle this. Plus, Kaeya has your back. In all the years you had known him, Kaeya had never dropped that rogue-ish grin off of his delicate countenance--he had the face of a prince, but marred with the implications of his mysterious eyepatch (he had never told you how he had lost that eye) and the pierce of his sly smile. It made him all so painfully attractive. 

You hate to recall the very first day you met him, the two of you only teenagers, barely adults grown into their own skin, yet he stood at the front of the training yard like the prolific swordsman he was, tan skin gleaming beneath the summer sun, hair tied behind his neck, sinewy muscles stretching as he maneuvered the sword in his hand like it was an extension of his own being. That day, you swore that you would become like Kaeya, that you would learn all you possibly could from him. That was also the day you had fallen hopelessly for the charismatic boy, though you were not aware of it just yet. 

Trudging into the forest, you made sure to clutch the weapon at your side a little tighter, wary of any potential threats that could appear in front of you at any moment. You never know how much the Abyss mages could use their magic--they are always using the spirits of Teyvat for evil. Although you had only encountered Abyss mages a small handful of times in your past B-rank missions, you already knew how perilous an interaction with any of them could be. The last time you and a partner engaged with a Pyro mage, you left the site with severe magic burns to your side, which took at least three months to fully heal. Looking at Kaeya, he appeared to be as relaxed as ever, both hands loosely tucked into his pockets, his steps led by his elegant hips. The eerie silence of the woods didn’t seem to bother him at all, a comfortable void between the both of you.

“So, captain”, you begun, doing your best to break the proverbial ice a bit, trying not to let the emptiness of the whole forest get to your head. “How have you been? It’s been a while since we last took an assignment together, I believe. 3 months already, isn’t it?”

Kaeya chuckled. “Oh, drop the formalities, [y/n].” He looked at you with his singular, unobscured eye with a teasing glance. “You’ve always known me as just Kaeya, havent you?”

Blood rushed to your face, although not entirely unwelcome, due to the chilliness of the forest. You hoped that the twilight shadows could hide your red cheeks from the man beside you.

“To answer your question, I am doing exceptionally well, thank you”, he smirked. “Although, the last time I did see you was only about a month ago, at the Windblume Ball. Not sure if you remember it all though—you were rather... intoxicated, it seemed.”

Oh, archons. You didn’t know if your face could possivly get any redder from the embarassment. The Windblume Ball was a month prior, hosted by the Knights for all citizens of Mondstadt to attend, to end the Windblume Festival with a night of wine, music, and dancing. Your group of friends within the Knights convinced you to attend along with them, though they didnt quite succeed at convincing you to finally confess your attraction to the captain of the cavalry himself. You acquiesced only on the condition that you would not have to interact with Kaeya at all that night. The anxiety was simply too much and you did not want to deal with the potential situation of seeing Kaeya in formalwear and absolutely losing your mind, let alone Kaeya seeing you dancing and drinking.

“Oh, come on, [y/n]”, your friends had whined. “If you don’t tell him now, when will you ever? He most definitely finds you attractive, as well.” Chuckling, you took a sip of the wine lrovided by the Dawn Winery. You cringed at the sourness of cheap grapes. “I’ll tell him when I’m dead.” You took another sip of the wine, but over the rim of the glass, you saw the one person you were hell-bent on avoiding.

Kaeya Alberich stood across the room, talking to one of the other knights. He was dressed to the nines, in clothing you had never seen him don before. His hair was parted neatly, his long lovelock secured by a large sapphire band. His lean, upper body was covered by a three piece suit, fitted perfectly around his narrow waist, tailcoat resting neatly by his thick, carved thighs. His pants were pressed tightly, without a wrinkle, and he had brought along his usual white fur cape, giving him the sophisticated look of a king.

In awe, you spluttered in your drink as he caught your eye from across the room, clearly noticing you were staring at him. You turned the other way, seeing that your friends were making fun of your oblivious gawking, and they now excitedly pointed behind you, mouthing the words he’s coming! You tried your best to smooth down your hair and pat down your outfit, before turning back around to see that the captain was standing in front of you, face-to-face, with his hand outstretched.

He looked even more sparklingly glamorous up close, an image of old-world elegance that you never knew him capable of portraying. You suddenly felt more drunk than any cheap wine could possibly make you. Kaeya looked at you, a gleam in his eye, and asked

“May I have this dance, [y/n]?”

The rest of the night was a blur, what with your continued consumption of alcohol, convincing yourself you needed to periodically top up your liquid courage. Kaeya had asked you for a few more dances, as far as you remembered. But from what you could recall, he was just as elegant and charismatic as you had always remembered him to be. He never made you feel out of place.

It was awful that Kaeya only seemed to remember how disgustingly drunk you were, but you were thankful at least that he didn’t seem to recall the perpetual state of flusteredness you were in that night, by his mere presence beside you, and his hands guiding yours as you both danced to the upbeat music of the band.

“Archons, I assure you that I am not the unabashed drunkard I may have seemed to be that night”, you chuckled.

Kaeya let out a hearty laugh, his voice reminding you of the sounds of the bells ringing atop the Cathedral. “Of course not, my dear”, he drawled. “I’ve met many a drunkard in my day—you are far from one; I promise.”

You and Kaeya kept on your way in this manner, making pleasant small talk to fill the silence. You didn’t dare tell him for fear of seeming a coward, but hearing his voice and reminiscing with him diminished the fright you initially felt, entering the woods and taking on this assignment. Kaeya was a master conversationalist, and diplomat too, no doubt, always knowing what to say at what time. His warm remarks and playful banter took your mind off of the imminent danger of your situation, and you didn’t notice the path you were both on narrowing. The sun had already set, and the woods were doused in an eerie darkness, and as you and Kaeya approached the vicinity of the ruins, the thickets grew denser and the tree branches hung lower. Not a sound could be heard--

Until suddenly, Kaeya stepped in front of you, blocking your path with an arm outstretched. Shit. You smelled Abyss magic. How could you have possibly missed the putrid scent of sulfur before? 

Kaeya’s grin had fallen. His attention was now beyond only you, as if trying to detect something he sensed nearby. Out of nowhere, a hum grew, louder, until an earblasting pop rang out in front of you and Kaeya, and in its place were three Pyro Abyss mages. Three. You could handle one, if you had a partner with you, but three? 

Terror ran down your spine, knowing how difficult your Cryo vision could be against a Pyro mage. Your hand unsheathed the sword at your side with blinding speed, just like you were trained, but before you could even take a step forward, Kaeya was already charging at the mages, ice blasting forth from his swordtip, smashing up against the mages’ shields.

“Aren’t ya glad I caught that, [y/n]?” Kaeya teased, sword cutting through the air and the force fields surrounding the mages, as their strained groans pierced the night air. His movements were swift and effortless; at times his movements were so fast that it looked like he teleported from one spot to the next. This was the grace, the beauty of a true prodigy. “If I hadn’t stopped you, we would’ve been roast boar by now!” 

You jumped into action, assisting Kaeya with his assaults against the mages, doing your best to dodge the onslaught of fireballs. You felt the heat of the fire magic graze your extremities more than once, counting your blessings that it was nothing critical. The way the two of you moved in unison, one complementing the other, like an avalanche of piercing ice, was a testament to the years of experience you gained in under Kaeya’s expert tutelage. One sword piercing the left, the other the right, until you both had broken down two of the Pyro mages’ shields. You had never gotten through their force fields in such rapid succession before, you thought, in awe. Swinging your sword calculatedly, whilst utilizing your vision and shooting out ice crystals, you defeated the mage, dealing a killing blow, piercing its side with your sword. You watched the creature groan out gutturally, and eventually dissipate into ash, drifting away. 

Turning around, you noticed that Kaeya had already taken care of the other mage, already breaking down the final one’s shield. He dodged each blast of Pyro magic with grace and ease, not even showing any sign of fatigue. 

“Hey, good work rookie!”, Kaeya teased, activating his ultimate Cryo weapon, sending a halo of ice crystals about his body, knocking into the mage’s shield with every swing.

You huffed. “I’m not a rookie”, you called back, joining him in his siege upon the last enemy. Exhaustion was quickly catching up to you, although you tried to hide it. You couldn’t let Kaeya down. 

Over and over, the pair of you banged upon the force field with your swords, with more difficulty than any of the previous mages. This one was different, somewhat stronger. The grass surrounding the two of you was already lit up in flames, licking at your ankles. If you even so much as tripped, the heat would probably damage you more than a fireball could. 

“Watch out, rookie”, Kaeya yelled in your directions, trying to be heard above the cackling of the mage and the raging flames, already beginning to catch onto the trees nearby. The night was filled with a reddish glow--hellish and suffocating. “I think it’s about to activate it’s ultimate.”

The cackling grew louder, as you worked yourself into a frenzy, shooting more and more ice crystals, trying to break it’s force field. Three, dragon-like heads began to emerge around where the mage floated. Fuck. The fire-breathers were out. You had only ever fought a Pyro mage that could use fire-breathers once before--that also happened to be the instance that caused you to be an invalid for several months, healing from a deep flesh burn. But Kaeya was here this time. Things would be okay, right?

You could tell Kaeya was growing panicked as well, his swings becoming a bit more hurried and erratic. You didn’t know, but he was deathly worried about you. He had no idea how experienced you were with dodging the fire-breathers, and he knew he had to make quick work of the blasted mage before things could escalate, Archons forbid you get hurt. Kaeya activated his ultimate once more, and, finally, the mage’s shield broke. 

You heaved a sigh of relief, closing in on the Pyro mage. Kaeya’s strength and incredible reliability in battle did not fail to impress you, even beyond just the prowess he had demonstrated as a trainee and a mentor. You finally activated your own ultimate, summoning a boulder made of hard ice. Approaching the mage as you saw it struggle to get up off the ground, the ice in your boulder began to form, and you willed it to hurl towards the mage, intending to finish it off. Finally, you would show Kaeya your true strength, your capability. He could depend on you. Hell, you were his star student. Even if you were afraid to tell him about how he had stolen your heart, you could at least show him that the time and effort he had dedicated to you wasn’t for naught. 

The seconds slowed down, as the blinding white ice made its way through the air, aimed straight at the pathetic mage, groveling in the dirt. But beyond the ice, was something even brighter, not making its way to the mage; no, it was headed straight at you. A fireball. 

You felt an excruciating pain on your left side, right below your ribcage. A scream in the distance--the mage? No; it was Kaeya’s voice. The white-hot pain blinded you, as you felt your back make contact with the hard ground beneath you. Dammit. Dammit, dammit, dammit. Archons, what will Kaeya think? 

Vaguely willing your arm to press into your side to assess the damage, you felt warm, sticky liquid pooling on your waist. Lifting a hand, you saw it drenched in crimson blood, dark in the moonlight. You heard another scream again nearby, this time coming from the guttural squeaks you knew was the mage, the dying cries of a pitiful monster. At once, a pair of arms lifted you from the ground, supporting your head. What a damned disappointment you were. 

“[y/n]! [Y/N]! DAMMIT!” You had never heard Kaeya this worked up before. The pain of hearing the panic in his voice was also tinged with a selfish gladness that he cared, that Kaeya Alberich gave a damn if you died. Because, in that moment, you were certain you would die.

Straining out a chuckle, your chest racked up a wet cough, sticky blood now staining the edges of your lips. I’ll tell him when I’m dead, you once said. Well, isn’t this all quite ironic.

“Fucking hell, [y/n], I need you to keep your eyes open”, Kaeya commanded. He was using his captain voice, the one that only comes out when a new recruit wasn’t following orders. “Rookie, don’t you dare pass out on me.” His voice wavered.

Would it be worth it to tell him now? Did you want his last memory of you to be a pathetic, wishful fantasy spilling forth from your bloodstained lips, like the nonsense uttered by a mere child? Your vision spun faster, losing sight of Kaeya, hovering over you. You couldn’t make out his features too clearly in the darkness, but something about the wet drops of water landing on your cheeks told you that it wasnt more blood. You supposed that you should do yourself justice and at least keep the one promise you made that night in Mondstadt.

Straining to open your mouth, you uttered, “Kaeya, I—”

But before you could muster the strength to speak another word, your vision went dark.

*****

The first thing you heard when you woke up was the sound of birds chirping. The second was a silent snoring sound coming from somewhere to your right.

Cracking your weary eyes open, you sensed the faint light of the early morning coming in through an nearby window. Getting your bearings, you realized you had woken up in the Knights of Favonius headquarters hospital. Your damaged adventurer’s clothes were gone, and instead you could feel bandages dressed around the wound at your side. Oh, right. You thought you had died.

Trying to sit up, you fekt an excruciating pain burn through the side of your body that had been hit, setting your nerves on fire. You hissed, and the snoring beside you abruptly stopped.

“Archons, you’re awake.”

Kaeya sat up from the chair he had apparently been sleeping in, still dressed in his captain’s armor, just as dirt-covered and singed as when you last saw him. Was that only last night? You figured Kaeya must have hurried you back to the city before your condition could get any worse.

Fuck. As all your memories of the prior night came flooding back, your eyes pooled up with salty tears. Not only had you cone closest to death than you’ve ever had, you had completely disappointed Kaeya and made a fool of yourself in front of him.

“Kaeya, I’m so sorry—”, you started.

Your words were interrupted by the man next to you leaping into your embrace, arms wrapping your shoulders where you were not injured. “Dammit, [y/n]. When won’t you just shut up.” His voice was muffled by his face buried into your neck. “You don’t have to say a word.”

It scared you, seeing him vulnerable. The ever-cocky and cunning captain of the cavalry, the man who always had a plan and was never caught off-guard. Now, a man bearing his innermost emotions to you, little old you. Had he heard what you begun to tell him last night? Or were things going to return back to the way they were, you admiring his dazzling beauty from a distance, comfortable yet agonized at the degree of separation.

You hoped to the archons for the latter. You hoped that it wouldn’t take another instance where you almost lost your life for the love you felt for him to spill forth. Archons, even if you had to die, it would still all be worth it, if it were with him at your side.

Kaeya trembled as he pressed himself deeper into you, desperately clinging on. “Don’t you dare open your mouth, rookie”, he chided. “I don’t want to hear something you’ll only tell me when you’re almost gone. Please just let me do the talking.”

Pulling back, you looked at him in confusion. His hair was disheveled, eyepatch slightly askew, yet his face was full of an almost childlike wonder, akin to the gleam he possessed when you had first met him, however many years ago.

“Do you think I did it all for nothing?” Kaeya looked at you. “Do you think all those years of training together, eating together, soarring together, was all because I thought you had potential as a soldier? The private walks through Windrise, the nights spent at the tavern, the dance, that damned dance we shared—what did you think that was?” Desperate and exhausted, Kaeya’s eye began to shimmer with tears. “Fucking hell, [y/n]. I’ve always loved you. Since the very beginning, you idiot. Why else would I dedicate all my time, all my energy to you and only you?” He grasped your shoulders tighter. “If you think that I haven’t been madly in love with you since I first laid eyes upon you that day, then you’re fucking wrong.”

You cut him off, burying your hands into his hair—pain be damned—and kissed him. It was bitter and metallic, the taste of both of your blood on your tongue. Kaeya’s neck was ice cold, but his cracked lips were thick and warm, and when you pulled away from them, you suddenly felt like you could take on the world.

“Well”, you remarked. “I’m glad that we got that out of the way.”

a/n: uhuhuhu this is pretty long but i hope you like it! i wanted to improve my writing a bit and elaborate on descriptions a bit more, so i hope i did your request justice!

[buckysgoldenheart]

Angel in the Dark

Demon!August Walker x Reader

Summary: After a one-night stand, or what you thought would be one, a demon drags you to his world and forces you to grow wings like he has so you would have to stay with him, unable to permanently return to Earth.

Notes: (So this is like a one-shot that is little snippets/summary of something I might turn into a multi-chaptered fic. I’m not sure if I’m going to do that yet or if anyone would even like this idea, but if it seems a bit choppy, this is why.) I know its been an age and a half since i posted anything, but college, ya know? Also to those who have made requests, I have started all of them and they are to be posted next. I just started this fic a long time ago. I havent written anything for a while so it might actually kinda suck. 

Warnings: Implied smut, kinda. Unhealthy attachment on August’s end. If I make this chaptered then there would be actual smut. I think cursing. Eventual Stockholm syndrome if continued.

Words: 1713

 Angel in the Dark

You didn’t believe in fate, not really. You didn’t believe your life was predestined or anyone else’s to play with. It was yours alone, to make choices, good or bad. Only you decided when you did things and where you did them. And no one would have ever been able to convince you otherwise, until you met him.

Seeing him in that club, kissing him before you knew his name, now you couldn’t help but feel was in some way a trick, manipulated in his favor. That maybe bumping into him, quite literally, was his orchestration. Maybe whether you spoke to him or not, he had his sights set on you, and a one-night stand was never going to just get to be a one-night stand.

It was all too simple. Meeting you and not taking advantage, kissing you but following your lead, sleeping with you like you meant something to him. It didn’t add up. You could sense the kind of man he was; dominating and possessive. Too dominating and possessive to be as gentle with you as he had been. And all of it fell into a perfect line for what you now realized he wanted from you: not just sex, but more; nothing less than your life. But admitting all of that to yourself was entertaining the possibility that you were stalked like prey and any training at staying away from bad men had been a useless waste of time.

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

It was the third day, third of eight. August promised the pain would subside as the days passed, but so far he was proving to be a liar, not to your surprise. Every few hours, the wings ripped your skin wider to accommodate their size as they grew from the inside of your body pushing out. At three days, they were now the span of a couple feet, shining an opalescent white in the glare of the sun.

As you laid on your stomach, frozen in place against the mattress, wings bloodied and draped across your back with your eyes closed tight, you tried to understand the depth of the pain; how it was able to hurt the way it did. The feeling couldn’t compare to anything Earth may dare to offer. So different, so unnatural in its entirety, and indescribably excruciating. It was merciless, not letting you escape, not letting you find the will to walk without your bones threatening to crack. You could barely speak for fear fire would thrust itself up from your lungs and incinerate your throat. It was all-consuming, swallowing your body whole instead of localizing where the skin of your back had shredded open.

“Just a few more days,” August said, and you flinched at his voice. Every time he spoke it was a shock he was still there beside you, with his massive, black wings hanging over the back of the chair he sat in. Those monstrosities weren’t attached to his muscled back when you met him; nowhere in sight when he was in your bed.

August dabbed at your broken and bleeding skin with a cool cloth, eliciting little whimpers passed your chapped lips. “I know it hurts, Angel.”

“Don’t—" You forced out despite the heat in your throat, acid on your tongue, waves of nausea you knew would follow. “…C-Call me that.”

He sighed and continued to wipe the blood from your naked body. “I wish you wouldn’t say that. When the time is up, you’ll feel so much better about this, about me, and you’ll see how beautiful they are. You’re already so gorgeous, the wings will only add to your beauty.”

“I di-didn’t want--

“Don’t talk, Angel,” he said. “I know how you’re feeling about this right now, but humans are not allowed to live in this world. I had to do this so you can stay.”

You screamed as the wings tore your skin open a few more centimeters, and August quickly scooted his chair closer to brush the hair from your face.

He softly shushed you the way one might soothe a kitten, before leaning down and placing a kiss to your sweaty forehead. “It’s ok. I’m not going to leave your side.”

You would have slapped at him, pushed him away with all your might if you had the strength, but your lungs were tightening, body burning as if it had been licked by the sun. You were dying, slowly morphing into a horrid creature from fantasies, leaving behind any trace of humanity. In your veins you could feel something coursing and altering your DNA. You knew you still looked like you, for the most part, but you weren’t you, not anymore. All because you met a man who got attached and wouldn’t let you go. All because he couldn’t remain in your world and decided with certainty that if he couldn’t be in yours, he would drag you to his. A place some believed in and some didn’t, a place no one could prove the existence of, now your iron cage.

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

It was five more nights of torture before you felt like you could really breathe again, and even then, the oxygen was just as foreign as the pain you had trudged through, and you found little comfort in it fully filling your lungs.

“You’re awake.”

His smooth voice drew your eyes away from the scenery out the bedroom window; the first glimpse of true, heavenly beauty you’d seen since he brought you here. But you weren’t convinced it wasn’t an illusion crafted by his devilish fingers for your comfort. Much like his own beauty, a trick tempting you to call off your desire to leave this world and go home. You tried your best to ignore how perfect he looked; the curls of his hair, the scruff of his jaw, the black wings you first saw the night you met him when they had suddenly appeared only after you’d slept together.

“And you’re standing already. I hoped to come help you, but you’re clearly much stronger than I was after I had to grow my own wings.”

Your eyes flashed in anger before your tore them away from his, back to the rolling hills overlapping one another outside your window. The breeze rustling your hair, the chirp of the birds, the glisten of the sun off the small lake dotted in the landscape, distracted you from August’s approach. You stilled at his breath hitting the back of your neck, but when he slipped his rough fingers through the layers of your shimmering feathers you couldn’t contain the shiver that shot through your body. His own black ones ruffled when his skin touched his creation.

“So beautiful,” he whispered.

“I’m glad you’re proud of your work.”

August let out a puff of air, a weak laugh. “My work? Angel, this was all you. I knew they would be beautiful if they were going to be a part of you, but you really outdid yourself.”

Twisting your body fast, you met him chest to chest, your eyes burning with a heat to match the devil. “I outdid myself? You forced this on me. You injected me with that—that poison without my permission.”

“And you survived. Not many can say the same. You’ve come out stronger.” Fingers trailed through your feathers again and you ignored the heat it sent to your core.

“I’ve come out of this wanting to kill you more than I did before,” You said, shifting the wing back and away from his reach.

Without a moment to pass, August gently grasped your chin between his thumb and index finger as his gaze landed on your lips. “That will fade with time,” he whispered, then inched his face closer. You shoved him away just before his lips could meet yours, and August stumbled back with a chuckle. “Certainly stronger.”

“I’m not going to let you kiss me,” you snapped.

“Not today, it would seem.”

“Not ever again!” Somehow the words felt wrong, each one more sour than the last. Wrong, as if your lips called to his and a portion of your mind was so disappointed at the fight you were going to force it through by trying to keep yourself away from him. But it was a small portion, and the rest of you was much stronger.

“We will see, Angel,” He crossed his arms. “You and I have eternity. One day you will wake up and realize I am all you have, I am all you want, and this memory will be lost. All you will know is me and my touch and our world.”

As he spoke, his eyes held a gentle sincerity that you wished wasn’t there. You wished the blue of them wasn’t so calm and casual and certain of the way he was feeling. Shaking your head, you matched his stance. “You’re a monster,” you said. “You really are, and here I thought I’d seen the worst of monsters, but clearly not.”

August slowly stepped back into your space again, catching you off guard with a flush to your cheeks as he loomed over you. But you kept his stare, even with your back against the wall, wings spread against the stone. “You may breathe your sweet words all you’d like, Angel, but it changes nothing,” He said, running a knuckle down your cheek. “If I am a monster, I am your monster, and I’m not going anywhere.” Smiling, his eyes glanced at your lips again. “Luckily for me…neither are you.”

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[wienerbarnes]

A Certain Romance (2/6)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 1,685

Warnings: not rlly anything

A/N: a lil bit of a deeper dive for these two’s relationship👀... enjoy!

MAIN MASTERLIST | A CERTAIN ROMANCE MASTERLIST

Your apartment is nice. Very you.

Sam invited him out to some restaurant, but after the last one he suggested, he decided to pass. And when Sam asked him what he was doing instead, if he was seeing you, Bucky lied and said yes. It made Sam happy and got him out of going to another ridiculous restaurant, so he saw it as a win-win.

Once Sam left, though, his thoughts did drift to what you were doing.

You two exchanged numbers at the pizza place after your date, but you two haven’t texted much. He texted you making sure you got home safe, which you did, and a day or so after, you texted him a picture of some advertisement with an awfully cheesy pick-up line written on it, which even he agreed was awful.

But that’s about it. So, he texts you.

Hey. What are u doing?

About to make dinner. Y?

Told Sam I was seeing u. Wanna hang out?

Come over.

Simple enough, he thinks.

You two haven’t had the most meaningful text conversations, clearly, but it’s still nice. No flirting, no typing and retyping messages in order to hook, line, and sinker, no ghosting. No relationship texting.

It was a dream for him. To have a new friend. He’s made plenty of friends, both in New York and in Wakanda. But it’s all under the same… umbrella. Always an agent, a fighter, an analyst of some sort. Someone to train with, to fight with, to fight for. Never someone like you. Someone that works a mundane job and lives in a mundane part of New York where her weekends are filled with going on mundane blind dates or otherwise cooking dinner for one.

It’s a breath of fresh air to not talk about fighting or missions or press or media or anything else he has to hear about at work. The only connection you have with Sam is that you met in a coffee shop a few years ago that has since closed down. He was one of your first friends here.

You could care less about Captain America, too. Which hurts Sam’s ego, and in turn, makes Bucky smile.

So, he goes over to yours.

He’s not sure what you’re making, but he brings a bottle of red wine as a courtesy. You are making dinner after all. Besides, women love wine, right?

Your apartment is nice. Very you.

Enough going on to show that someone does indeed live here, but also enough to show that you’re not exactly swimming in riches, like most people that live in this city.

The place smells like garlic and basil, and he’s glad that he brought the wine.

Shoes discarded at the door, he helps chop up the rest of the ingredients while you put a pot of water to boil. He chops up mushrooms, onion, pancetta, eyeing the bottle of vodka out on the table and tube of tomato paste next to his hand.

It's an understatement to say he’s excited. Most of the pasta he makes is from a bag of precooked noodles and a jar of tomato sauce.

Basic small talk floats through the air as the two of you dance around one another in the kitchen. Even though you’re “dating”, you don’t know much about each other. This isn’t too uncommon from how dating was for Bucky when he was a teenager; you’d marry women knowing very little about them.

Your favorite color is orange. You played violin in grade school. You had a childhood dog named Chowder. Bucky tells you his favorite color is green. He played a little bit of piano when he was younger, but did boxing in his late teens and early twenties before the war. You poke fun at him when he can’t remember the name of his own childhood dog.

“He’s probably rolling over in dog-heaven.”

“Good boy; he’d deserve a treat.”

You laugh.

Easy conversation continues on the couch as bowl after bowl of pasta is eaten and replenished. As fun and seemingly simple questions are asked, like each of your favorite movies or whether or not you pour the milk before the cereal, the room that’s left is used for deeper questions.

“What’s your most embarrassing moment?” You ask him.

He thinks for a moment before opening his mouth, only to close it again. “One time when Princess Shuri was fixing my arm it wasn’t secure completely, so it flew off while I was playing with some of the children.”

“That’s not your most embarrassing moment. I know it’s not, now you have to tell me what it really is.” You tease him.

He’s never been the best liar.

“You’re right, it’s not my most embarrassing moment. My actual most embarrassing moment is just kind of… sad. And I didn’t want to ruin the mood or anything.” He explains, hoping you’ll accept that but instead you give him an encouraging smile to hopefully give him some comfort that whatever it is he wants to tell you is safe in your apartment.

“Okay, uhm. So, in the 40’s, after I was rescued by Steve, but before we shipped out again where I was recaptured for the second and final time. We were all holed up in this little dance club, all the soldiers and their gals. And in walks Peggy Carter in a pretty red dress,” He begins, only glancing at your eyes periodically as if to make sure you’re still there.

“I know she’s Steve’s gal, he told me all about her. I wasn’t flirting with her because I wanted her, I was flirting with her… to make sure I still could. I mean, after being held in that… place… they injected me with stuff, told me things that weren’t true, I mean Steve told me I was repeating my number over and over again when he found me, I didn’t even remember doing that. I felt… violated, used, not like myself. I felt like I wasn’t me anymore.

“So, when Peggy walked in, I thought about how everyone always called me a ladies man, how good I was with women, I mean, I’d take girls out about every damn weekend, you know? I wanted to feel normal, so I flirted with her, tried to get her to dance with me. And she completely ignored me. She never even took her eyes off of Steve. It’s like I was invisible. And it just sort of felt like the nail in the coffin for whoever James Barnes was before the war. It was a realization that I’m never going to be that person again. And it was embarrassing for me.” He explains.

He hasn’t looked up at you again, but he heard your fork stop moving around your bowl a minute or so ago. He feels a lump in his throat thinking about that time, how he knew he’d never get back the man he was, even before knowing what was in store for him after falling off that train. How he used to be this man that wanted a long, happy marriage, six or seven kids running around a big backyard, a white picket fence surrounding a big two-story house in a neighborhood of identical homes. He wanted the cheesy life, at one point. But the same man that wanted that life died falling off a train many years ago.

All of that’s forgotten, though, when you open your mouth, and seem to say the perfect thing to make him feel better.

“One time in the third grade, this girl pulled my skirt down in front of my crush, and I wasn’t wearing any undies.”

A snort escapes his throat as you, somehow, after he’s shared something so deeply personal, something he never even told Steve or Sam about, still found a way to make him laugh. Which is what he wanted, he realizes. The comfort of moving on from that confession and not having to wallow in it like other people would try to. His hand leaves his fork to cover his face as tears threaten to leak out from how hard he’s laughing.

He took that secret to the grave, even if it wasn’t his own. He told himself he’d never tell Steve about how he felt in that situation, and he never did. He never told Steve that he didn’t enlist, either. He couldn’t imagine how Steve would’ve felt knowing that the army would’ve rather taken men that didn’t want to go to war, men who were terrified to go to war, had too much to lose and wanted to be selfish and stay home, than men like Steve who would do anything to enlist. Including lying on the damn enlistment form.

He wonders if Steve is looking at him now. Watching over him as he shares something that he never did with his best friend, with you, a girl he’s met barely a week ago, on your couch over bowls of pasta while he points out leftover sauce on the corner of your lip.

“What’s your greatest fear?” He asks you next.

“Dying alone. Actually, no. Getting kidnapped, probably.”

“Oh, mine’s spiders.” He shares.

It’s so easy to laugh with you, he finds. He jokes with Sam a lot, all the bickering and teasing all in good fun at the end of the day, and it’s mostly pretty funny. But laughing with you. He feels like a teenager again. Somehow, everything is funny; he doesn’t remember the last time he’s laughed so much, especially about things that aren’t even that funny.

It’s raining at the end of the night. Early morning, rather.

“You can take the couch, if you’d like.”

“Nah, I don't mind a little rain, and I like the ride home.” He fed Alpine before he left, but he imagines his cat misses him, even if she’s probably busy licking herself to even notice he’s left.

“Suit yourself.”

You don’t push him. A simple pleasure that’s more of a luxury for him. There’s no pushing or convincing or Are you sure’s with you.

Certainly a luxury, you are.

[astridthevalkyrie]

summer rain: chapter 4

Your days in the Training Corp aren’t too out of the ordinary. You make friends, you train hard, and you eat dinner every day.

Oh, and you’re also hellbent on getting revenge against Humanity’s Strongest Soldier.

Chapter 3, Chapter 5

i have finally found the two perfect songs for this series and that’s everytime by chen & punch and talk love by k. will so go give those a listen because damn if it isn’t these two idiots.

anyways, enjoy the chapter!

Nothing is right anymore, and yet people are so quick to adapt to any sense of normalcy they can. It’s marveling to watch how, in two measly days, the refugees have quieted down and stopped fighting for food. Stopped fighting, period. Now they seek comfort in one another, a sense of camaraderie in knowing that they’ve all gone through the same thing. And holy hells are there a lot of them.

Because soon after Shiganshina was torn through because of the monster they were calling the Colossal Titan, Wall Maria itself fell. Ploughed straight through by something called the Armored Titan as though it was made of feathers. The refugees here are safe - for now - but there are countless of people who weren’t lucky enough to get behind Wall Rose, and they’re out there dying right about now. No one knows if Rose is going to hold either. No one knows anything. So with the kinsmanship comes a heavy pretense of safety, in which everyone ignores how scared they are in favor of counting themselves lucky that they get to live even a single day longer.

You’re doing what you can. Obeying orders without so much as a single complaint. Of course all rations are to be given to the refugees, so you’ve only had one eighth of a potato in the past twenty four hours, but it’s better than nothing. For once, you can’t find any fault with your situation, because no matter how terrible or hungry or scared you’re feeling, there is undoubtedly someone feeling worse.

Such as Ricky.

His mother and old sister managed to get to the boats. His father and younger sister weren’t so lucky.

The two of you had been stationed inside the base together, to watch and hand out resources to the refugees, but you’d immediately taken full responsibility and told Ricky to stay with his family. He’d pulled you into a bone-crushing hug and ran off, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Unfortunately, they’re pretty unpleasant.

Captain Erwin Smith is famed for bringing home soldiers who are still alive. That and Levi’s raw skill with his ODM gear makes you hopeful enough that he’s alive, so you try not to think of him. Frankly, it’s selfish to worry about a single person when there’s so many people at risk, so you bury the troublesome thoughts and focus on your job.

The Garrison has done a good enough job with the resources they have, but the Military Police’s presence is aggravating more than anything. They’re here to keep order, not to keep people safe, and everyone knows it. You wonder if your mother would prefer if you joined with these bastards instead of the choice you’ve made for yourself.

There you go again, being selfish. It’s always been about your life, and your absolute disdain for boredom. Out there, good people are laying down their lives. And you? You enlisted in the Training Corp as some form of self-fulfillment. It’s the first time you’re feeling this overwhelming guilt, as you realize just how ignorant your point of view is. You’ve never even so much as seen a titan, and yet you fancy yourself a soldier.

What a stupid girl you’ve been.

A tug on your uniform makes you snap out of your thoughts, and you look down to see a small girl with black hair wrapped in a scarf that’s too big on her. You blink, and try your best to smile reassuringly.

“Hey. You need something?”

The girl’s voice is quiet, soft, as though she’s trying her best not to be a bother. “They said you were giving out blankets here. May I have four of them, please?”

You nod, leaning down to check the crate by your feet. Unfortunately, you’d been swarmed by people asking for blankets just a few minutes earlier, and you’re just one short of how many the girl needs.

“I only have three left,” you begin apologetically, biting your lip, “but wait here, I’ll go check with someone else.” But you know that’ll be pointless, all the other stations have probably run out too, and if they haven’t, they’re saving for themselves. Calling them out won’t make them give it to you, that much is for sure.

Even the little girl seems to know that much. She shakes her head, taking the three blankets you offer her. “It’s alright. Three is enough. I’ll give them to the others.”

You frown. In the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t matter much. But you know that you would hardly be so selfless in the same situation. Hell, you would have wanted two blankets to yourself - these thin sheets are only going to do the bare minimum to keep people warm. The girl piques your curiosity.

“What’s your name?”

She hesitates for a second, then says, “Mikasa.”

You hum as though you’re thinking about it. “Pretty name. Who are the blankets for?”

She smiles faintly at the compliment. “My friends, Eren and Armin, and Armin’s grandpa.”

Not her parents. Your heart breaks for her. You’re not going to pry, the girl has probably seen enough, but you admire her maturity and willingness to spend the nights cold. It must take a lot to love some people so dearly that one would give up basic comfort. To risk getting sick, which, given the circumstances, may just be a death sentence. Yes, that kind of love is truly special, and you wonder if you’ll ever love someone that much.

You want to be a little selfless, too.

“Here.” You shrug off your uniform jacket, draping it over her shoulders. “I know it’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.”

Mikasa’s eyes widen. “But don’t you need it, ma’am?”

“Eh. They can make me another one.” You shrug. “Besides, to tell you the truth, orange isn’t really my color.”

Her eyes shine tiredly at the unexpected kindness. “Thank you.”

You watch her run off, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. One person helped, out of thousands. It shouldn’t matter - you’re probably never going to see that girl again, you wouldn’t even know if the dumb uniform would do her any good. But there’s a part of you that can rest just a bit easier now, knowing that a child won’t be completely exposed to the harsh winter coming in. If the conditions of Wall Rose are anything to go by, you know that the refugees will be put to work in the fields very soon. It’s going to be a cold season indeed.

There’s been no time to process anything, which you’re almost grateful for. If you stop to think about the effect this is going to have on the fate of humankind, you might scream. There’s too much to think about, and there may be no time to think about it if things get even worse. For now, all you can do is try to help as many people as you can.

As Grumman always tries to drill into your head, it’s about dedicating your heart.

____________________

The new base and training areas are nice. That’s about all you can say for them. Losing the old one was akin to losing your home, and you know your comrades feel the same way, considering how awkward and depressing the shift has been. It feels stupid to start training again like the world hasn’t gone to shit, but you suppose it’s more necessary now than ever.

Everyone’s usual hijinks have stopped. Ophelia doesn’t cross her eyes and make faces whenever Grumman turns his back. Gunther’s habit of making finger guns every time he successfully slices a cardboard titan’s neck has ceased to exist. Even Traute, never one for jokes, seems even more morose and serious than usual. Everyone feels the loss keenly.

Ricky’s gone silent.

You don’t know how many people everyone has lost, and the worst feeling you’ve ever experienced is the relief that you haven’t lost anyone. It’s an ugly impulsive thought, but it trumps all the others in your head. Just overwhelming, horrible comfort.

It gets even worse when the Scouts return, almost three weeks later. There’s no cheers and hollers this time. Each and every single one of them is drenched in guilt and shame along with the blood coating their capes. Titan blood evaporates, you realize with a deep shudder.

The commander carries the same pain as the rest of them. Already, there’s been whispers of Commander Erwin, murmurs that Shadis is losing his touch and a younger, more clever man is needed. You don’t see how it matters who leads - titans are fucking titans, and they certainly don’t care. There’s no tactics that will make them stop being giant man-eating monsters.

You’ve been waiting for days to see Levi, but when you finally make him out, you quickly look away. The horrifying relief blooms in your chest again, and you curse and bless the circumstances that have brought you here. So he’s alive. So the constant anxiousness that has kept you up these last few nights is soothed. So what? Not everyone is as lucky as you. Things will never, ever go back to normal. You have no right to be happy about this.

When you glance at him again, you suck in a sharp breath when you see he’s gazing right back at you. There’s no brightness in his eyes, the rare spark that you’d seen in the moments the two of you shared is long gone. It seems like it was centuries ago. He’s seen too much. They all have.

There’s a question he seems to be asking you, but you have no idea what it is. You want to walk up to him, but a heavy force keeps your feet planted right where they are. All you can do is give him a confused expression, brows furrowed. It’s not like you’re telepathic. If he wants to ask you something, he’ll have to actually ask you.

But he doesn’t. He just looks away, seemingly conflicted, and continues to follow the others. When everything around him is hell, you wonder if you’re even important enough to be worth more than a couple of seconds of his attention. Thankfully, the thought isn’t painful like you imagined it might be. In fact, it’s a bit freeing to let go of this stupid, ridiculous, pointless plan. Your grudge against the lieutenant is about the least important thing in the world right now, so insignificant that you wonder how you ever thought it was worth your time in the first place. There’s no need to make yourself feel more like the foolish, self-centered bitch that you’re realizing you are.

The only problem that comes with letting go of this plan is that you’re letting go of Levi, and it’s a serious problem that the thought gives you such an aching pang in your chest.

____________________

Stephen is gently shaking you for a good ten seconds before you snap out of it, looking at him with a bewildered expression.

“Aren’t you going to go for your walk?”

You look around. Dinner is nearly over, and a few people have already filed out to go back to their dorms. You must’ve zoned out, like you have been ever since the Scouts came back earlier today. You’ve never been so unfocused in your life, simply because you didn’t like not knowing what was happening around you. This is so unlike you, but you’re not sure what to do to stop it. A dark cloud has settled over your shoulders, and you have absolutely no idea how to get rid of it.

“Yeah.” You sigh and stand up, squeezing his hand in thanks. “Ricky went to bed already?”

Stephen nods, with a concerned frown on his face. “I know you’re worried about him, (F/N). I am, too. A lot.” He takes a deep breath. “I don’t want to have to worry about you too.”

You wince apologetically, running a hand through your hair. “Shit, I’m really sorry. Look, I’m fine, I am. I’m just...thinking a lot lately, that’s all.”

The last thing you want is to have your friends take time out of their day to schedule an intervention for you. You’re not the one who needs it. It’s as though everything just makes you feel worse and worse - it’s just that you feel fucking useless all the time, and now you’re an emotional burden to Stephen, who just has to be sweet to everyone.

“You don’t need to apologize,” he says kindly, “just take care of yourself, okay?

“Yeah. You too.” You squeeze his hand again and then head out, beginning your aimless walk around the grounds.

The moon is shining brightly, an unwanted beacon to the despair brewing inside you. Truthfully, you’re spiralling, and you haven’t spiralled in years, not since you decided to take control of your life. There’d been no trigger then, or maybe life itself had been the trigger, and you’d holed yourself up in your room as your head spun out of control. Cheesy questions like what am i doing here and what is my purpose and am i ever going to do anything meaningful rose to your mind then, and they do again now.

Back then, you’d decided that the answer simply lied outside of Stohess. You still believe that, to an extent. Going back isn’t going to solve anything, but...what did leaving accomplish? Your desires are fulfilled, but there’s no purpose to any of this. Not when people were and still are dying out there. Is the only way forward to dedicate yourself to the noble cause of saving humanity? There mustn't be a person alive who can give themselves that goal and actually hope to achieve it.

Well, except one.

This time, you’re the one who finds him.

He’s standing by his horse, stroking the fur gently. Somehow you’ve walked all the way to the stables without realizing. You take a step back, intending to walk away, but the selfish part of you that you’re starting to loathe doesn’t let you go any further than that. You’ve missed him, so much. You’ve missed his bad attitude, his amused smiles, his tantalizing gaze. You want it back, selfishness and selflessness all be damned. Now that he’s here in front of you, it’s too hard to resist.

“Lieutenant.”

Levi looks at you, and his shoulders droop as he stares wearily. He looks like he’s aged several years, and you consider that he probably doesn’t want to see you right now.

“Sorry to disturb you.” You take a deep breath, willing your hands to stay still by your sides and stop clenching. “Were you going for a ride?”

“Yeah.” He takes in the sight of you and then lets out the slightest of sighs. “Do you want to come?”

“What?”

Never in a million years did you expect him to offer going on a horse ride with you, and never in a billion years did you expect yourself to want to accept. You’re so taken aback that it doesn’t occur to you to note the little stool he’s using to hike himself up (as though he can’t pull himself on - it’s a formality more than anything). Levi’s looking at you, waiting for an answer, hand outstretched like he’s actually trying to live up to the fucking prince charming title you’ve given him.

“Okay,” you agree softly, not really knowing what the hell else you’re supposed to do.

You take his hand and he helps you on - really unnecessary, you can get on a horse by yourself - and you swallow when you realize he’s placed you in front. If he wants, he can observe your every reaction to him, and see...well, you don’t know what he’ll see or what you’ll do, but you know it’s not anything you’re willing to show him.

He gets on behind you, an arm snaking around your waist before he instructs you to hold onto the saddle tightly.

Neither of you speak. The horse trots peacefully, never going too fast. The poor thing’s probably done enough running to last it a lifetime. You caress the fur gently as you enter the forest, the moon now cloaked by the towering trees, stealing away your capacity for sight. It’s not something you inherently mind, honestly, it feels good to just close your eyes and relax.

But deep under the guilt and midlife crisis (probably more than midlife given the world you live in), you’re still you. And you get restless easily, not to mention you’ve been craving a conversation with Humanity’s Strongest Soldier, and you don’t want to pass up the chance.

“How bad was it?”

Okay, maybe not the conversation started you should have chosen.

“Bad,” Levi answers without much hesitation, “really bad.” He releases a shaky breath and on impulse you place your hand over his, immediately feeling awkward right after. Do you grip his fingers? Pat him in a show of solidarity? You don’t know, so you don’t do anything, but you don’t remove your hand either.

After a beat, he says, ���I was wrong.”

You wrack your brain about what he could be wrong about. Maybe about asking you to come with him just now. Your company hasn’t exactly been what you would call pleasant.

“About what, sir?”

When Levi responds, you feel his hot breath on your neck and you barely stop yourself from shuddering. He shouldn’t be in such close proximity to you. Doesn’t he know what he does to you when he gets this close?

“I said I wanted to see the day that smile got wiped off your face. Now that the day’s here, I wish I could take it back.”

You whip your head around, not even bothering to make sure you don’t accidentally hit him. Luckily you don’t, even though he’s not far from you at all, just a centimeter closer and the tip of your nose would touch his. In the dark, you can barely make him out, but the grey eyes that have fascinated you for so long are discernible even without any light. He’s watching you, so intently that your face burns up, and you pray to whoever’s up there that he can’t see you too well without the moonlight.

But can anyone blame you? Lieutenant Levi, the man who’d punished you for smiling, was now claiming that he missed the very smile that had made you the bane of his existence. You can’t chalk it up to his usual mood swings, because you know it’s not that. You know he’s trying to tell you something, and you’re so close to figuring it out.

You don’t even flinch when his finger curls under your chin and tilts it up just a bit so he can appreciate the view properly.

Even in the dark, you know his lips are just a mere inch away from yours. You wonder what he tastes like.

No.

You turn back around, heart pounding wildly in your chest. It’s wildly inappropriate to think about doing something like that. You can’t, not when he’s your trainer and lieutenant and humanity’s savior. Whatever this is, you have to reel it in control.

“I can’t,” you say, and then quickly clarify so he doesn’t get the wrong idea, “I can’t smile. Not when so much has happened. How can I smile when people...when they’re out there...when you and the rest of the soldiers have sacrificed everything and I’ve done nothing?”

It’s not as though you expect him to give you the most motivational speech in the world, but when he answers, “You’re going to sacrifice plenty in the future,” you feel overwhelmed with guilt, and you just want it to stop. He doesn’t know. Doesn’t know your plans, your motivations, or why you’re here at all. He thinks you’re someone that you’re really, truly not.

But you’re not brave enough to tell him any of that. So you opt for the other truth, the less relevant but equally as pressing one.

“I’m not strong enough.”

“No,” Levi murmurs in agreement, “but you’re going to be.” Both his arms are curled around you, and there’s something uplifting in his tone when he says, “4 AM tomorrow, understood?”

Just like that, your goal changes.

If the lieutenant thinks that you can actually be useful, then maybe...maybe you actually can. You’ve somehow gotten in the top ten without even meaning to, so it’s not too much of a stretch to think you could be really good if you actively tried. And he’s still willing to train you - even after all that’s happened, he doesn’t consider you an added bother to his already difficult life. And you plan to value that, now. You’re going to get better, stronger, faster. No more passivity. And maybe if you do this, you can ease the guilt brewing inside before you completely drown in it.

“Yes, sir.”

Determination has risen back inside you, but a ghost of a smile only reappears on your face when you hear him yawn, something you’re one hundred percent sure you’ve never seen nor heard before.

“Are you actually sleepy, Lieutenant?” you tease quietly, “it’s not even 11 PM yet.”

“You should be happy,” he mutters, “all your efforts trying to chase away my insomnia and it’s finally worked.”

If not for the trees providing you safety in the form of the absence of light, you wouldn’t be as bold to do what you do next. Closing your eyes, you lean back and hunch down, resting your cheek against his chest. He stiffens a little at the close contact, but doesn’t say anything or push you away. You won’t kiss him, but you can allow yourself this much, just to seek comfort in the safety he provides just by being there. He’s so, so warm.

The horse rides on, and Levi keeps his arms around you and on the reigns.

Truthfully, as you listen to his heartbeat, you don’t think you’ll ever know who comforts who most tonight.

____________________

The next morning, you’re there before he is, on your fourth lap by the time he walks up. If Levi’s surprised, he doesn’t show it. He only takes his new spot on the new grounds at this new base, and watches you from afar.

Naturally, he still barks at you that your stance is sloppy when you start doing your squats, asking you snidely how many times he’s told you that you need to squat down at a ninety degree angle and just what you did in your early mathematics classes if that’s what you think ninety degrees is. He still presses you into the ground with his foot when you attempt to do a push-up without going all the way down. And he absolutely still withholds your water privileges until you’re practically dizzy from your activities.

Except this time, you have no complaints. You do what you’re ordered.

And maybe stop to give him one or two pointed glares.

When he dismisses you, you find that you’ve still got a bit of energy left. You’re certainly not sleepy.

“Will you spar with me?”

Levi raises a brow, unimpressed. “So you can get your ass handed to you again?”

“I’ve improved!” you cry out indignantly.

“Oh yeah, you’ve made great strides.” He snorts, digging his heel into the ground and raising his fists. “Okay, (L/N), give me your best shot.”

With Lieutenant Levi, the thing that matters most is the element of surprise. Last time, you went for his legs, so he’ll see that coming. You quickly scan his stance - how is it that you two have spent so much time together and you still haven’t located a single weakness of his? Not that that’s what you’re doing anymore, but it would sure be helpful in a fight. Needless to say, you need to think fast.

So before either of you can move, you cry out in pain, clutching your side. “Shit! I - I think I pulled a muscle - ow, fuck -”

Levi’s beside you in an instant, hand reaching down to inspect your stomach. Damn, you’re a better actor than you give yourself credit for. As soon as he reaches out, you grab his bicep with both your hands, plant your feet, and yank up as hard as you can.

No, you probably can’t throw him over your shoulder. But you can at least try to whirl him around you and then tackle him while he tries to regain his balance.

Well, you could if Levi didn’t twist his arm out of your grasp within a single second and grab you in a chokehold.

“Playing dirty, are we?” he whispers in your ear, “naughty girl, I should keep you here an extra hour just for that.”

Gasping for breath, you pat his elbow repeatedly in defeat. Surrender, you surrender! After holding on to lord his victory over you just a little longer, he lets you go, and you suck air into your lungs desperately.

He doesn’t make you stay any longer, but nonetheless, you certainly lose your brawl. How disappointing.

“I’ll...get you...next time…”

Levi’s lips quirk into what can be taken for a smile. “No, you won’t.”

“Yes I will!”

____________________

You lose the next time.

____________________

And the next time.

____________________

And the next.

____________________

It’s a whole two months later when Ricky laughs again.

There’s nothing funny about the situation at all - everyone is freezing their ass off in the middle of nowhere and questioning just how surviving a snowy mountain is going to improve their combat skills. No one was brave enough to ask this question before, though, so now all they can do is deal with it. The problem is that your group is definitely lost.

“Well, this is great,” Gunther groans, sinking on his knees into the snow. You wonder how he can handle the cold biting past his clothes and into his skin.

Ophelia, who’s been pessimistic since the beginning, seems to take this as her permission to sling her bag off and completely give up. “We’re going to die up here.”

You huff. “We’re not going to die, but yeah, we’re gonna lose some merit. They’ll probably send a search party by morning.”

“T-tell us, (F/N),” Gunther says in that smarmy tone of his that makes you pity his parents, “how exactly are we going to make it till morning? You got a fur coat hiding away in those custom boots?”

Ophelia snorts and you narrow your eyes at him. “If I did, I wouldn’t share it. And they’re not custom, it’s actually a very popular brand item.”

“Well, mind trading with me? All I have are these ratty ones.”

“I do mind, actually.”

Ricky hasn’t said anything, only observed your interactions with a blank expression. You let out a pained breath, filled with disdain at seeing your precious oxygen visibly. Yeah, you’ve decided you’re not a fan of the cold, not one bit. You’re already one of those people who is cold all the time, and this isn’t really helping. Apparently no one has any idea, and although Gunther was assigned team leader, you decide to step in.

“We have two options.” You hug yourself, rubbing your arms in an unsuccessful attempt to warm up. “We could try to find some shelter and stay alive till morning, or…” You sigh, not really a fan of all the work that goes into option two, but it’s still the one you’re leaning towards. “Or we get our shit together and find out how to get back to the cabin tonight.”

You’ve got something to prove, after all.

Ophelia’s teeth are chattering as she says, “W-where the h-hell will we find shelter out here?”

“Nowhere. That’s why we’re gonna go with the other idea.”

“Someone’s eager to hold onto her position,” Gunther accuses, “even if it means sacrificing her team!”

“Oh my God, who am I sacrificing? Who have I sacrificed so far? No one!”

“Yet!”

You make a rude gesture and stalk off on your own. The others call after you, but only Ricky follows, grabbing your shoulder before you misstep and tumble into the icy ground. You groan loudly, this is so not how the night was supposed to go. You have to make it back.

“You’ve changed,” Ricky says all of a sudden. “I’ve known that for a while, and I know that we all have, but you’ve done a complete turnaround. I mean…” He hesitates, considering his words carefully. You wonder if he knows that just by doing that, he’s showing that he’s changed quite a bit too. “You would have decided to give up on this by now. So what’s the deal?”

Honestly, it’s surprising that it’s taken him this long to ask. Nonetheless, these days you’re glad to hear Ricky speak at all, so anything he says is welcome. That doesn’t mean you know how to answer his question, though.

“Like you said, we’ve all changed. I just decided to…” You trail off and shiver, rubbing your hands together.

“Give a shit?”

You give him a weak smile. “Yeah.”

Ricky nods, looking satisfied enough with the answer. There’s a slight shift in his expression as he peers at you. “It’s not out of pity, right?” When you look confused, he clarifies. “Not out of pity for me. I know I don’t matter that much to you - I just mean, if you feel bad for everything that’s happened, to everyone, you shouldn’t.”

Scoffing, you glare at him, with crossed arms. “Who said you don’t matter to me?”

“Do I?” He grins, looking genuinely surprised. “Me, the outer city peasant?”

This time you allow yourself to speak without thinking. Sometimes, the moment just calls for it. “Yeah, well, we rich folk have to do some charity work sometimes.”

That’s when Ricky laughs, and oh, how you’ve missed the sound. He throws his head back, looking up to the sky like he’s praying. Snowflakes coat his cheeks, and when he looks back at you, his eyes are bright, and he’s gazing at you in the same way you’re sure he once gazed at his poor, lovely little sister who couldn’t make it long enough to see her brother step up and become a hero of humanity.

Then he grabs your arm, yanking you forward.

“Come on, twerp.” He ignores your protests that his hand is freezing. “Let’s get you off this mountain.”

____________________

Okay, Petra definitely knows that you’re trying to compete with her for the number one position. She’s just too nice to say anything, so the two of you just silently try to outdo each other in every which way. Teacher asks a question in class? Either your hand or her’s will fly up right away. Grumman walks by? Well, the two of you are saluting faster than anyone else can even ball their fist. There’s an advanced exercise at 2 PM? You both finished your exercises early and are there at 1:30.

You’re not even sure when you started competing with her, but here you are.

And to be fair, you’re neck and neck with the star student. In classes, you’re basically equal, her because she works hard and studies and you because you retain information well and can play suck up rather well. As for hand to hand combat, you pretty much top your entire Cadet Corp except maybe Traute. When people are paired up to train to steal the knife from each other, no one ever wants to partner up with you (which both hurts and is rather flattering). Yeah, in a fight, you’re pretty much secure. It’s the 3D maneuvering where Petra has you beat.

Now, you’re not bad at using your ODM gear, not by any means. She’s just a damn natural. Any maneuver that takes you five days to pull off is one she can manage in three. A part of you wishes that she actually was a horrible person - then you could at least use your dislike of her as a motivator to beat her. Alas, you’re quite fond of the other girl.

These complaints are what you find yourself telling Levi one morning, after requesting that he watch you fly through the forest. Nowadays it wasn’t entirely unusual for you to stay past 6 AM, either doing extra training or just talking to him. He’d complied, and you’d gotten gear for the both of you to use in the forest.

Seeing him in action only serves to make you even more grouchy about your own skills. Levi’s already fast enough on his feet; with the ODM gear he seems nearly invincible and you have an inkling he’s not performing to the best of his abilities just to monitor you. When you finally tire yourself out, you grumpily toss the gear off, head out into the grass, check for bugs and flop down onto your back once you’re sure it’s safe. “I don’t get it,” you moan unhappily, “why can’t I do it as well as you can?”

Levi steps in front of you, his head blocking out the rising sun. Ah, perfect. “It’s because you enjoy it too much.”

“Oh, is that your professional diagnosis?”

He sucks in a long breath, which you know translates to you’re so fucking difficult, damn shitty brat. “My professional diagnosis is that you’re a dumbass.”

“Aww, thanks, sir! But I only take medical advice from licensed professionals.”

Levi notes your position and moves out of the way to allow the sun to blind you. You wince, squinting in the sunlight, and your hand comes up to shield your poor eyes. Averting your gaze, you peer straight up. In the middle of spring, from the open grounds down below, the clouds have never looked more beautiful.

“Wanna lay down with me? It’s therapeutic. The grass feels great.” You beckon him down next to you, but he shakes his head, instead choosing to deliver a small kick to your side. You hiss - someone seriously needs to do something about the lieutenant’s violent tendencies.

“Do you think I’m doing this so you can look at the pretty sky?”

Tossing your arm over your eyes, you say, “No, you’re doing this because you’re interested in me.”

The sound that Levi lets out is so strangled that you immediately look at him, concerned. He turns away from you for a second, scoffing with his cheeks tinted slightly red, and that’s when you realize he took your statement in an entirely wrong way. You’re a bit offended nonetheless, he doesn’t have to act like it’s disgusting to even think about you in that way. People have been interested in you! It’s happened, you’re a delight! He’s just blind, that’s all.

“I meant interested in me as a subordinate.” You sit up, knees hunched to your chest. “Now that Commander Erwin is in charge, everyone knows you’re going to get promoted soon too. Get a whole squad all to yourself.” Grinning at him, you let your palms rest on the blades of grass beneath you. “Hunting for your own lieutenant, Captain Levi?”

Huh. The title rolls right off the tongue. It suits him pretty well.

He looks at you strangely for a second, before holding his hand out. As you tug yourself up, he mutters, “Please, if I was going to have a lieutenant, I’d need someone competent.”

“Well,” you drawl, not bothered, “I’m not interested anyways.” At least there, you’re being truthful. Even if the thought makes you feel ashamed.

You and him continue to bicker as you walk across the grounds to put the gear back in the shed. While you don’t exactly walk slowly, you don’t go at your fastest pace either, itching to prolong the time that the two of you share. A stark contrast to the first few weeks you trained with him, when all you could think about was going back to bed. Now, nearly a year and a half later, you’re not sleepy, you’re not angry, and you don’t hate him.

When it’s time to part ways, you pretend as though you’re studying him carefully.

“What?” Levi snaps, but there’s no bite to his bark.

“I stand by what I said earlier, about you wanting a lieutenant.” A small smirk spreads on your lips. “But I also think you just have a crush on me.”

He stares at you. A second passes. Two seconds.

Three seconds.

You burst out laughing, hitting his shoulder. “You should see your face! Did you think I was serious?”

He looks at you with his eyes narrowed crossly, only serving to make you laugh louder.

“Minx,” he finally says, shaking his head, “a fucking minx is what you are, (L/N).”

____________________

“It’s raining!”

The excitement with which you squeal those words has nearly everyone rolling their eyes, but they follow you out anyways. It’s nice of them to abandon their lunch for this momentous occasion, rain during the summertime. You feel a rush of love for your fellow cadets, specifically for the three people who are right besides you. Of course you’ve always considered Millie your best friend, but Ricky and Stephen had filled a piece of your soul that you didn’t know was empty. This is your family, and you love them.

“Stephen!” Millie’s voice comes, scolding next to you. “Are you serious?”

“What?”

“He still doesn’t know what regiment he wants to join.”

“Leave him alone,” Ricky asserts, taking a swipe at her that she ducks.

“I know what I want to join,” Stephen mumbles, “I’m just not sure…”

Somehow, you know exactly what he’s considering. The rain gives you courage.

“The Scouts are wonderful.” Stephen turns to you, surprised, and you let out a giddy laugh. “They’re amazing. Brave, and heroic, and they kick ass. You’d do really well there, Stephen.”

You’re rambling, but by some miracle, Stephen takes your words to heart and makes his decision.

“Okay,” he says, with a wide smile on his face. “I’ll join the Scouts.”

Ricky coughs into his fist, something that sounds suspiciously like kiss ass. You’re too enthralled by your current environment to notice that, or Millie’s disapproving glare.

Bathing in the rain, you spin around until you’re dizzy. Droplets pour down your face, soaking your hair, your uniform, and you couldn’t be more thrilled. This, really, is what happiness is. The chance to fool around in the rainfall, to throw your hands up and feel precisely just how little of a speck you are in the vast, wide world. Slipping a hand into your bun, you let your hair down, closing your eyes as you soak up the thrill.

Everyone is chattering in groups around you. No one is mourning the lunch that has been long forgotten in the mess hall.

There’s grey eyes watching you when you open yours, a fond smile that you think he probably let slip past the tough exterior on his face. No one can resist this weather.

Maybe third time’s the charm. Even if it’s not, it doesn’t hurt to try, right?

You raise your hand and wave at him.

From the distance, still watching you closely, Levi sighs softly and then waves back.

Something you’ve never felt before bubbles up in your chest. It threatens to consume you as the others become a blur in the precipitation around you. You feel light on your feet, almost as though you’re not even touching the ground anymore. Affection? Adoration? For him?

Maybe it’s because of the stupid way he holds his teacup. Or maybe it’s the way he looks at you like you’re the funniest, most ridiculous person he’s ever met. It might be how his touch always lingers, how he’s always warm, and how he never fails to catch you when you stumble. How about that dumb cravat, why is he always wearing that?

His sarcastic quips, always ready to fire back at you. The way he brushed your tears away that time he’d found you crying. How he never pushes you to open up more than you want to, and how truthful he is. The feeling you get when he smiles or laughs at you, knowing it’s a rarity for him. His eyes, a blend of silver and charcoal that you could stare into for hours and still never get tired of.

It’s here, dancing in the summer rain, that you realize something that really should have been painfully obvious. There’s a reason you notice all these things. There’s a reason your heart is fluttering right now. There’s a reason that time has frozen, and there’s a reason you feel like you’re floating a thousand miles up in the air.

It’s because you like him. You really, really like him.

Oh, shit.

reader on her first day: wow levi’s eyes are beautiful

reader whenever levi is in front of her: damn he is so alluring

reader every time levi so much as glances at her: does he like me?

reader for two years: if levi asked me to have sex with him i would

also reader: omg i have a crush on him??? how is that possible?????

falling for a guy just because he finally waved back at you after like sixteen months is kinda weird but you do you girl.

one chapter left! :O

[harrypotter-imaginess]

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here!

A/N: maybe two more parts after this

Commission info for a Love Letter from your favorite HP character here - close 3/10/21!

You sigh as you lean your head back on the arm rest of Draco’s couch

You can see him extending a glass of wine towards you, and you take it gingerly into your hand

“I think I want to quit my job”

He doesn’t say anything, just raises an eyebrow and takes a seat in the arm chair next to the sofa you’re sprawled over like you’re at the therapists office

“Planning to coast along on your good looks?” He finally says, trying to keep his face as stern as possible.

Despite himself a smile arch’s onto the corner of his mouth

“I’m being serious!” You say, sitting up.

Draco openly laughs now, and he doesn’t stop until you throw a pillow at him.

“Well what do you expect when you say somethin’ like that out of nowhere.” He manages to say between bursts of laughter

You both have been dating for a while now, almost a year- you even brought him to a company holiday party

Life has been good

Having to hide his wizardry from you isn’t all that hard, he just had to completely reprogram the way he operates as a human being and now he’s fine

...

It’s been a little challenging

You sigh, a hand threading through your hair, eyebrows threaded together

Well now he’s a little worried, he figured you were just joking around but-

“Did something happen at work?”

Did someone say something to you- or maybe someone did something to you

Draco’s already running a list of curses in his mind by the time you sigh and shake your head

“Nothing that hasn’t been happening- not really.”

The cruciatus curse seems a little to far, maybe boils? No that’s too obvious

“It’s a nice place to work, I have it really good, it’s just-“ your eyes flicker from your glass of wine to Draco

“I always figured once I had a steady income life would be exciting yknow? And I would travel and be making memories but-“

You should be grateful, you have a good life. A comfortable job, a cozy house and-

Your eyes flicker to him, taking his impeccably handsome face, that ash blonde hair, and vibrant grey eyes

And you’ve got Draco

But even though you have all these things, you can’t help but feel like life is just passing you by, and before you know it you’ll be 80 on your death bed having done nothing at all

Draco’s quiet for a moment, picking up on the unspoken sentiment

Maybe you shouldn’t have unpacked on him like that- he’s got his own problems too after all

“Let’s go on Holiday”

Huh?

Draco picks up on your confusion and elaborates on his reasoning

“You’re just a little burned out, you need a break.”

It happened to his Dad all the time when he was a kid, he’d get caught up in all of his dark magic council meetings and his board positions and wonder if this is just life was- an endless power struggle

And that’s when his Mum would swoop in with an elegant family trip to some exotic location, and they would all come back like new people.

Right now you need someone to show you the joy in life. That it’s not just going to work for fifty years and dying

There’s a long stretch of silence between the two of you

And Draco starts to wonder if maybe his Mum had it all wrong

Maybe he should have just offered to make you his spouse, he makes enough money for the both of you- you don’t have to work if you don’t want to when you’re his

He’s internally rehearsing his proposal speech, picking out which moments he should highlight

Which is pretty hard because every moment with you feels like a highlight

“Where would we go?”

Your voice is soft, almost hesitant, but Draco doesn’t overlook the twinkle in your eye

He grins

“Anywhere you want”

You find out pretty fast that Draco is a meticulous planner- everything is carefully decided

“Alright we’ll get off the flight, and we’ll get one of those mu- I mean we’ll get a car from there so we don’t have to worry about transportation-“

Literally everything is reserved, the hotel you’re staying in the city at for the first few nights, the car you’ll be using while you’re in France, the bed and breakfast Draco found out about in a small village in the French country side, even all the restaurants you’ll be eating at

Which is totally fine, some structure isn’t a bad thing

It’s just Draco’s never struck you as someone who plans everything out

“Is everything alright darling? Is this a personality trait of yours I’m just going to have to grow to love?”

You wrap your arms around his torso from the back, your chin resting on his shoulder to glance at the travel documents he’s reviewing

“Oh I never do this when I’m traveling alone- I don’t even take a travel bag most of the time, I can just buy whatever I need when I land- one time I didn’t even take my wallet because your phone is a wallet these days.”

You raise an eyebrow, what a little rich boy

You can’t think of all the times your family packed everything they could possibly need when going on vacation so they wouldn’t have to pay for anything when they got there

“So what’s the difference this time?” You ask, has hitting the quarter of life struck him with a lightening bolt that’s transformed him into a dad now?

“Because I’m going with you”

So everything has to be perfect. You’re taking a whole two weeks off of work, he’s got to make sure you don’t regret it, and give you the best time possible

“Don’t tell me you’re planning on proposing”

You’re only joking, but the disgusted look that crosses Draco’s features makes you flinch

You know it’s probably a little early to mention marriage, it’s only been a year after all, but you would be lying if you said that didn’t hurt

“I would never propose in France (Y/N), I have taste”

That whole country is just overhyped, and Paris is way too dirty - like most cities.

But it’s where you want to go- you like art museums and fresh baked bread so here he is

Going to god damn France

But he’ll be hexed before he proposes to you in that god forsaken country

“Oh so there’s going to be a proposal?”

“Of course there is” he says off handedly, verifying that both of your passports are up to date

And then he realizes what he just admitted and feels a ruby red blush creep onto his face from his neck

“W-wait-“

He turns around to face you, face bright red, only to see you smiling like you’ve just won the lottery

And he should be hopelessly embarrassed,

he’s been trying to play it cool for the last year, to play at your pace in terms of relationship development

Only to let it slip through his fingers in a single moment

But you look so happy to know he see’s a future with you

“Alright, sounds good. Just give me a heads up a few weeks before so I can get a spa appointment to look pretty for all our pictures”

You’re joking.... kind of

You don’t put it past Draco to have a photographer follow you both around and take pictures of the whole engagement thing

Draco’s actually taking your joke quite seriously though, a dopey grin on his mouth

“I’ll give you a hint the weekend before”

That should be enough time to get all your affairs in order

It’ll also give him enough time on how to break to you that he’s a wizard and well- his parents probably hate you

You’re smiling, an embarrassed expression crossing your features as you change the topic to which places you’ll be visiting

But there’s a shadow on Draco’s face

He sighs when you leave, saying you have to go back to your house to pack-

It’s always so lonely when you’re gone

He collapses on his arm chair, twirling his wand so that there’s a glass of fire whisky in his hand

He’s going to have to tell you soon- not just about his wizardry, but also about his family

His Mum’s already got half a guess there’s something going on here - but he bets the worst she believes is that he’s dating someone beneath him, maybe a muggle born at worst

Certainly not an actual muggle

His father’s clueless as always - too busy with his council positions and appearances

His mother will be fine , she would be upset of course, but she would come around eventually

His Father would disown him

He’s fairly confident about that

The second he says he’s in love with a muggle- it’s over for him

His dad might actually curse him when he finds out he’s marrying a muggle- bringing dirty blood into their bloodline

And Draco might curse him back

Because they can say whatever they want about him, but not about you-

Nothing about you is dirty

You’re the purest, kindest, loveliest person he’s ever seen

And he still can’t believe you’re his

You shouldn’t be surprised when you find out Draco booked you both first class seats

Or when you get to the airport and see a Mercedes convertible waiting for you

Or even when you get to the hotel - which turns out to be The Ritz

The tipping point is when you find out the “room” Draco booked is actually the penthouse

“Well that was exhausting, should we take a nap before going to the Louvre?”

You’re sitting on the sofa in the living area, your head in your hands

Draco doesn’t seem to notice. He’s too busy pouring Perrier into two crystal glasses.

“Draco, love, do you remember before we went on this trip, that I insisted paying my portion- even though you said there was no need?”

Draco looks up from the Perrier. But you’re still staring at the ground

“And then when I asked why my portion was so low- you said you got a really great economy deal from a travel package.”

That was the excuse he used wasn’t it

“Well there was a discount travel package, I just didn’t book it.”

Honestly he’s not sure what his end game was here- honestly he was just hoping you would believe this was all included in the package

Your palms are pressed together, your head resting against them

Draco extends a glass of Perrier towards you

You look at it for several long seconds,

he probably got it out of the mini fridge that charges 10x mark up

“I’m paying for our next trip” you say, accepting the glass with a sigh

Draco only grins

“So there’s going to be a next trip?”

You almost snort laughing

“Are you seriously asking me that after you basically proposed to me last week?”

Ah, you’ve got him there

You smile as you tug his towards you, pressing a kiss to his mouth

“Of course there will be you dork”

He smiles as he holds you close, kissing you again

Being in Paris is really cool

You go on a tour of the catacombs

“Watch your step” Draco says, offering his arm for support

“Thanks” you hold his hand as you make your way through the dark space

And the Louvre

“Am I supposed to be feeling something right now?” He asks

You’re both looking at the Mona Lisa, and you’ve got tears in your eyes, feeling very small

You’re almost humbled being in her presence, the painting that has withstood centuries

“Yes” you sniffle, taking the handkerchief Draco’s extended towards you

“You’re a rich kid, aren’t you supposed to be super invested in art and stuff?”

He gives you a mischievous grin

“I look at you everyday don’t I”

You manage a laugh, lightly smacking him in the arm

Things are going really well, you’re both having a really good time, and then something happens-

It’s your last day in the city before you head out to the french countryside,

you and Draco decided you would spend the morning souvenir shopping before heading there in the afternoon

You’ve put in an order for some macrons for your friends and the people at work

“Do you think they’ll still be good by the time we get back home?”

It will be at least a week until you head back, and longer until you see any of your friends

“I think as long as we freeze them” Draco assures

He’ll put a charm on them for good measure

“Malfoy?”

The second Draco hears that voice he goes rigid

You see, being with you for a year has been utter bliss.

Draco’s had a good year, the best year of his entire life-

The thing is though, he got so caught up in who he was becoming-

that he completely forgot who he used to be-

Until this moment

“Weasley. Granger”

Weasley looks the same as ever, flaming red hair and a splatter of freckles across his nose and spilling onto his face

Still that tall, lean, but muscular build he had when he last saw him.

Granger looks great though, she’s got her curls framing her face, smooth dark skin glistening against a clean cut pant suit

“Lovely to see you both”

Draco seems composed

But on the inside he’s on the verge of having a panic attack

Maybe they’ll just give a wave and be on their way

Yes that’s entirely pos-

Nope. They’re walking over to you two

F*ck

“Are you going to introduce us?” You ask with a teasing smile

Oh crap, he forgot the social protocols a situation like this calls for in his panic

“R-right, (Y/N) this is Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger-“

“Actually we’re both Weasley now” Ron says with a proud grin

“- well she was Granger now she’s Weasley too, we um-“

Were sworn rivals. Mortal enemies. Fought on opposite sides of a great and tragic war.

“Went to school together”

He can honestly say that isn’t a lie.

They all did go to school together

A magic school in the mountains of Scotland, where they rode brooms and befriended magical creatures

Somehow he gets the feeling that’s not the type of experience you’re picturing though

To his surprise things are going pretty well, the conversation is mostly revolving around Paris, you and Granger seem to share a similar love for Mona Lisa

“And when you stand in front of her-“ Granger starts

“It’s like she’s judging you!” You finish

The two of you are only a moment away from embracing

Weasley looks like he couldn’t care less about Mona Lisa

And for once Draco thinks they’re in agreement

Maybe it’s because they’re from pureblood families

Because something surviving 500 years isn’t all that big of a deal to wizards

Not when the average wizard can live a few hundred years, his great grandfather even lived until the ripe old age of 652

“So are you two on Holiday?” You ask and Granger shakes her head

“No, we’re actually here for work on behalf of the Au-“

“On behalf of their museum I’m sure” Draco cuts in quickly

He was so comfortable in the fantasy  where his previously sworn enemies might become causal aquantinces that he completely forgot there were three wizards and one muggle in this conversation

“”They um-“ Draco clears his throat giving a meaningful look to Granger and Weasley before lowering his voice “they actually work for a rival museum. Managed to get an exhibit from right under me”

The lies just seem to stack on one another.

Draco’s not sure what’s worse- that he’s getting better with coming up with these lies-

“Is that why they aren’t invited to your hangouts with Blaise, Theo and Pansy”

Or that you trust him so much you wholeheartedly  believe each and every lie

“That is exactly why they’re not invited”

Some force in the universe must like him, because luckily enough that’s when your order number is called.

“Oh looks like it’s ready, I’ll see you in a bit darling” you press a kiss to his cheek before making your way towards the counter

And Draco’s so caught up in the subtle affection you’ve just shown him he’s completely forgotten all about the situation at hand until Granger clears her throat.

Ah yes, the mountain of lies he’s haphazardly built.

How could he forget

Granger looks like she’s got the gist of the situation,

Weasley on the other hand looks just as dumb as Draco remembers from school

His mouth agape

“Are they a muggle??”

Draco flinches at how loud Weasley says the word Muggle

“Yes, they are could you please keep your voice down”

He looks in your direction

Oh good it looks like you didn’t hear

He turns back to his old enemies

They both look like their mind is broken

“But your family they hate-“

“That’s my parents, that’s not me” Draco snaps quickly

But it was him, wasn’t it

All those times he tormented muggle borns at school, the dark magic artifacts he toyed with-

He looks at Granger

All the times he called her mud blood

He’s not as bad as his parents

-but he’s still not good

“Since I was there I got yours too-“

The second you’re back you can tell something is off

The tension hangs in the air like fog

Draco looks like he’s just seen a ghost, face pale and thin pink lips trembling

“What’s wrong?” You ask

Draco was a monster, that’s what’s wrong

“Nothing,” he puts on his most believable smile “we should get going or it will get dark before we get to the manse”

You nod, taking his hand in yours

It’s trembling

“It was lovely meeting you, maybe we’ll see each other again soon”

Granger who’s been awfully quiet for this whole ordeal smiles

“Yes, I hope we do”

The look Granger gives you is genuine and warm

- like she already considers you a friend

and it makes Draco feel twice as bad

It’s not like anything has really changed as you two drive through the countryside

You’re still joking like you always do,

Draco’s driving and he stops in several places on the way there so you can take polaroids in the French country scenery

But something feels...off

Like he’s just pretending to be happy

You really shouldn’t be surprised when you roll up to a large iron gate,

Draco types in the code into a keypad and they creak as they open revealing a rather impressive winding drive

At the end of which is an absolute unit of a mansion

“This isn’t a bed and breakfast is it?”

For one there’s not even a parking lot, Draco gives you a fleeting look before taking your bags out of the car.

“This is my family’s manse, we would come up here during the summer for vacation”

He was on the fence about bringing you here, but his Mum always had a rule that all dark magic artifacts would be kept away from their vacation home

His father could have free reign over the manse near London, but not here when they were on vacation

“You grew up here?” You say, taking in the fountain, the thirty windows you see in the front face alone, and the massive rose garden to the side

“Not really, we would just come here to vacation, it was really for my parents. I spent most of my time climbing up trees-“

And playing with the house elves, which his mother would later reprimand him for

It was always worse for them though

At least Father pays them a wage now, however meager it may be

“There’s no servants right now though, so it will be just us”

He says it as he leads you through the manse, passing the drawing room, a rather impressive parlor, up a long pair of winding steps into the east wing into a rather lavish room

“I hope you don’t mind staying in my old room, my parents used to use the master and that just seems... icky”

you laugh And he gives you another smile, and this time you know somethings wrong.

“We can go to the village nearby and grab dinner, or we can stay here but I doubt the pantry has-“

“Draco,” you stop him mid speech about getting dinner “What’s wrong?”

Draco does his best to smile for you

“Nothings wrong-“

“No, something is wrong” you cut him off quickly, taking his hand in both of yours

“You’ve been...sad”

that’s what it is, the emotion he’s been trying to cover up

He thought he was covering up his internal turmoil pretty well

Draco won’t lie, the fact that he’s more transparent then he thinks hurts

“Ever since we saw your old classmates at the bakery”

The way he flinches when you mention it tells you all you need to know

You feel a protective flare swell inside you

“Did something happen? Did they do something to you?“

you’re already thinking about how you need to protect you Draco from them, they work in the same industry so they’re bound to cross paths. Maybe-

“I’m the one who did something to them.”

Draco breaks you away from your thoughts

“What?”

“I-“

Draco looks into your puzzled face, and his heart squeezes

He didn’t want you to find out, not like this

Pretty soon you’ll be thrust into his history headfirst-

His hand is held in both of yours,

your eyes are so warm as they look up at him.

And all he can think is that he doesn’t deserve any of this

The truth is he didn’t want you to ever know

“I wasn’t a good person” he croaks

He knows he’s just as much a victim as the others, he’s got the scars and the death eater mark to prove it- both things he didn’t really want

It was coercion, they told him.

He grew up in an environment where he was punished for showing any original thought, his therapist had said

He’s a victim too

But that doesn’t mean it was okay for him to treat people like that- for him to call people that word-

“I was a bully, a monster, I was-”

Draco’s cut off when you pull him into a hug

Draco stumbles back when you throw yourself at him,  wrapping your arms around him

“Stop. Don’t talk about yourself like that.” You say

He doesn’t understand why until he see’s  the tears drop onto your hair

Oh, he’s crying

“Shh, it’s okay” you hum, holding him close as he sobs into your shoulder

And you two stay just like that for a long time

“I just don’t want you to think less of me” Draco murmurs, you’re both on his bed now, you’re both sitting cross legged across from each other

He looks so ashamed, it’s like he’s admitting he killed someone

In all honestly, you figured something like this might be the case.

Draco’s a rich boy, he doesn’t seem like someone who’s experienced financial struggle,

He’s  someone who experienced life with a sense of entitlement

You look at him, rim of his eyes tinged pink and swelling. The almost pitiful sniffle he lets out

But the Draco in front of you isn’t like that, not anymore at least.

His kindness is still a little rough...but it’s there

You know that, you see it every time he picks up on your mood, every time he comforts you when you have a bad day

You’ve seen it during this trip, where he catered everything so you would have a good time

You just have to make him see that now

“All of that, it’s in the past now Draco” you squeeze his hand, and he finally stops looking down and up at you

“You have a past, I do too” you give him a warm smile. “but that’s all behind us now, all that matter is where we’re going from here”

Your reassuring expression and tender words make him feel like he might cry again, but this time for a different reason

“We don’t have to talk about it, not until you’re ready” you tell him

he feels his eyes sting

“I don’t deserve your kindness”

And from another man you would think it’s a plot to earn your sympathy, but looking at Draco you know he means every word

He looks like a broken man

Like he’s haunted, worn down to the bone

So you do the only thing you can think to do, knees pressing into the mattress you hover over him. Your hands cup each side of his face, tilting it up so those brilliant grey eyes are looking at you

“You deserve every part of me my love” you murmur, peppering his face with kisses

Scattering them across his cheeks, his hairline, down his thin nose, and across his jaw

Before finally catching his lips, your mouth gently caressing his

“(Y/N)-“ your name leaves him in a breathless voice- half in want and half concerned

His hand caresses your face, stopping you as you kiss down his neck

He wants to tell you that You don’t have to do any of this just because he’s feeling emotional

But he doesn’t have to say anything, because you understand immediately, giving him a kind smile

“I’m doing it because I want you-“ you take his hand , pressing kisses to the end of his fingertips

“Do you trust me?”

And Draco, who doesn’t trust his voice, can only manage a nod

“I’m going to be good for you” you murmur against his hand, and you feel him shiver underneath you.

Draco’s made love to you countless times, felt your burning skin against his hands so many times he’s lost count.

But it’s never been like this

It’s so....

He looks at you underneath him, your eyes are warm as you look up at him, and full of so much love

It’s.....Comforting.

This time making love to you is comforting.

Your hand presses against his lower abdomen, right above the place you both are connected, and it earns an involuntary shiver from him

But you don’t stop there, your hand trails up his stomach, across his chest, fingers lightly brushing against the nape of his neck before resting on his face

The action, mixed with that warm look in your eyes, feels so tender

“You’re so pretty” You murmur, your thumb rubbing tenderly across his cheek.

Caressing his face.

“My pretty boy Draco”

And he feels emotion well up within him once more.

A tear slipping down his face as he leans down to kiss you

He doesn’t deserve this, he doesn’t deserve your love

But he’s so grateful that he has it

That he has you

“Being good for him” extends past the bedroom it seems, because the next morning he wakes up to an empty bed, his body littered with kiss marks, a hot bath drawn for him with flower petals scattered across the surface, and a note

‘Took the car to the village, will be back soon. P.S take a bath and relax until I get back, I have your favorite tea in the kettle for when you’re done.’

Draco can’t help the goofy grin that spreads across his face

“I really don’t deserve you”

You come back only fifteen minutes later, while he’s still soaking in the tub.

You walk over to him wordlessly, rubbing his shoulders as you lean against the rim of the tub.

“How are you feeling today darling?” You murmur, kissing his temple.

“Better now that you’re here.” And he means it, he loves what you’ve done for him, but it’s always so lonely when you’re gone

He takes your hand in his, looking up at you with shining grey eyes.

“Will you join me?”

You laugh, your other hand caressing his face

“I have to go get things ready for our picnic- I thought it might be nice, there’s a place the locals told me about- a hill a few kilometers away from here.”

“That can wait can’t it?” He asks, and when you make no move to undress he adds -

“please?”

He looks like a little boy, and you find yourself relenting, pulling off your sweater with a sigh

The tub is massive, probably half the size of your bedroom, so you give Draco some room, sitting on the other side of the tub

Last night was intense, for you and for him, you don’t want to overwhelm him with too much stimulation

But Draco doesn’t let you stay far away, beckoning you to him. Only satisfied when your back is pressed against his chest, his arms wrapped around your chest and stomach

“I’m sorry-“ he starts, but you silence him with a simple squeeze of his hand

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for”

And it’s true. How many times has Draco comforted you- bringing you dinner when you pulled late nights at work, or kissed your tears away?

“It’s nice. Seeing another part of the person I love” you reassure

There’s a moment of silence before Draco opens his mouth again

“When I was in school, I-I -“

“ you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to” you reassure,

the two have the rest of your lives to talk about these things, there’s no rush

But Draco shake his head, and offers you a small smile

“I want to talk about it, I want you to know”

And so Draco tells you as much as he can without giving away his secret

He tells you his family comes from old money, and he internalized certain messages from that

“It’s not an excuse,” he clarifies, “but it’s part of the story too”

He tells you how he was a bully all through this childhood and into adolescence.

Even early adulthood.

How he basically tormented the people he bullied-

“Granger... I was terrible to her.” He admits, you’ve since moved away from the bath tub, and you’re sitting in the garden, drinking tea and eating scones. “I called her terrible things”

He means he called her a mudblood, the greatest insult a person can get

You’re thinking he probably called her a b*tch or a c*nt.

Honestly I’m not sure which version is worse

“Did you have a crush on her?” You ask, and Draco sputters. His cheeks blooming red

He remembers being jealous of Granger, she was always at the top of their class, and he always came in second to her.

He remembers getting lectures for it everytime he came home for the holidays

His Father always fuming how Draco  was so inept that even a ‘mudblood’ could surpass him.

And some of that did transfer to his dislike for the person

He does remember thinking she looked awfully beautiful at the Yule Ball though, in that pink dress

“She’d look better in green” he had thought and then realizing what he just thought blushed and looked towards his date.

“Maybe I did.” He admits to you, almost a decade later.

And you laugh

“I bet you were a cutie” Draco only blushes even more

What you wouldn’t give to see a teenage Draco, you wonder what it would have been like if you met him when you were younger

How different would things be?

You watch Draco flush bright red, trying to cover his embarrassment with a sip of his tea

Well, the way things turned out isn’t so bad either

You spend the rest of the trip at Draco’s family’s manor, in domestic bliss

You stand on your tip toes, trying to reach a pair of mugs on the top shelf

“Here let me get that” Draco says reaching them with ease while standing behind you

You drink tea in the garden

“Draco darling, will you pass me the preserves?”

You’re both dressed like something out a a historical drama, he’s in a suit and you’ve got on a tilted sun hat and white gloves

Playing like you’re nobility vacationing in the Parisian countryside

Which... Draco sort of actually is

.... let’s not think of that

And go on picnics on the nearby hill

“Oh no” you mumble

“What’s wrong?” Draco asks while setting down the picnic blanket

“I forgot to bring glasses for the wine” you sigh

Draco shrugs

“We’ll just drink from the bottle”

You make a face and he laughs

“What does the thought of an indirect kiss make you nervous?”

You lightly shove him with a laugh

And late nights spent in their family library

“Your family sure has a strange book collection” you say holding up a book titled ‘witchcraft in the mid-1800’s’

Draco scrambles towards you

“Y-yeah that’s probably my dad, he’s kind of interested in that occult stuff...for fun, not like, because he’s apart of a cult or anything”

Not anymore at least

“I wasn’t thinking that he was apart of a cult... but I am now” you joke

You’ve moved on, scanning the rest of  their collection, but Draco’s looking at you-

This last week has been like something out of a dream

He can’t imagine how happy he would be to have this everyday

He watches your hand brush against the spine of a book

He extends a hand over your own, stroking your ring finger

“Make sure this finger is empty for me, okay?”

[yourmidnightlover]

pain reliever

TW: descriptive talk abt period cramps ig?, talk abt cysts, mutual pining lol

Summary: in which spencer and Y/N love each other but refuse to tell each other. Y/N's having major period pain, the effect of a cyst, and spencer comes over to comfort her.

WC: 3,744

A/N - this one’s a bit of a rollercoaster. it has three different POV’s so just bear with me please!

masterlist

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

don't get me wrong, working at the BAU is amazing and definitely has it's perks, but it also has several downsides too. one of those pesky little downsides includes the amount of time off we have.

meaning we don't have much downtime.

this was one of the rare occasions when we were able to have two weeks off, the result of a very strenuous case.

this time was so exciting, spencer and i planned to go out to a movie he'd been dying to see. nobody else wanted to go with him and were being absolute jerks about it, so i automatically stepped up to go with him.

i went to bed the night before we were supposed to go out after showering. i was actually excited to be able to spend some time with him.

i couldn't help but begin to have feelings for him soon after i joined the team. i mean, who would be able to resist those amazing curls, the sweet smile, kind spirit, not to even mention how smart he is.

he didn't know that, of course. and i planned for him to never know. i was able to keep it a secret for 5 and a half years, and i didn't plan on stopping that streak anytime soon. i didn't want to ruin the friendship i had with him by confessing my undying love for him only to confirm my fears of it being unrequited.

i woke up groaning, the effect of an intense pain on my neck, back, and uterus. I almost immediately knew what that meant, sadly.  

i ran to the bathroom, only to find my suspicions confirmed. my period has always been irregular but about a year ago, i started getting terrible cramps when it wasn't anywhere close to the time for my period.

i went to the doctor to find out a cyst had grown on my left ovary so i started taking birth control per my doctor's request. the only thing about the birth control i was on was that it made me sick when i was on the green pill, so i had to stop taking it.

not taking it meant my period was always a surprise. but hey... at least i wasn't pregnant i guess.

when i took the birth control, it also lessened the cramps. not taking it also brought them back. sometimes not even the extra strength mydol was able to subside the terrible cramps that would ripple throughout my body.

those cramps meant that i needed to cancel my plans with spencer. i could only hope he wouldn't take it as me not wanting to spend time with him.

although, i certainly didn't want him to see me like this.

i decided i would take a shower in attempt to wash the dirty feeling off of my body. I could just call him after i got out and tell him i have a bug or something.

i took my time washing myself, letting the hot water soothe my aching muscles. cysts normally only affect the uterus area and cause discomfort at most times, but it always becomes severely worse during that time of the month.

luckily, my doctors helped create an appointment for a procedure to remove the cyst. the only catch being that the appointment is still 6 months away.

i finished showering and wrapped a towel around my body before popping two mydol's in my mouth and swallowing. i grabbed my cell and quickly dialed spencer's name.

"Y/N! hi. what's up?" he asked sweetly. i could hear the excitement in his voice.

"hey, spence," i started, already feeling terrible for the sad news. "i won't be able to go out today. i really, really wish i could. i came down with something and don't think i'm well enough to go out. i'm so sorry," i murmured, already regretted having to cancel.

"oh... that's okay. are you alright? do you need me to take you to the doctor?" he asked all worried. i giggled softly.

"no, that's alright, spence. thank you though. i think i'm probably just gonna get some house work done in the meantime," i declared with a sigh.

"you're planning on cleaning when you're sick? another reason to never doubt the strength of a woman, i suppose," he quipped, another laugh erupting from my chest, this one being louder.

"that, spencer reid, is why you're my best friend," i said with a smile.

"that and the fact that you actually listen to my incessant babbling and rambles," he remarked.

"i actually happen to enjoy those rambles, doctor. don't sell yourself short," I demanded in a sweet tone.

"thank you, Y/N. you should get some rest. don't overexert yourself," he said sweetly. "in all the years i've known you you've only been sick a number of times, so i would imagine you really don't feel too well," he declared. "goodbye."

"goodbye, spencer. s-sorry again," I stammered out.

I hung up the phone before actually getting dressed in some proper underwear. I threw on some loose shorts and skipped putting a bra on, my boobs were really sore, opting for just throwing a tank top on.

i started with doing the dishes from last night. the medicine was kind of kicking in, not fully taking the stabbing pain away but lessening it enough to where it would be manageable.

once the dishes were done i started doing the laundry, taking breaks in-between loads. during the breaks i made sure to drink a lot of water to stay hydrated.

part of me was debating going to the store to pick up some dark chocolate, ice cream, kale chips, and some chinese, but i decided against it.

i'm sure if i went out i would immediately regret it and have the pain 10x worse, just because that's my luck. so, suffering alone it was.

once i finished all of the laundry, i sat down on the couch. i had been going for about three hours, and definitely felt the toll it was taking on my body.

i turned on FRIENDS and grabbed a heating pad from a bin in my living room. i placed the pad on my upper back and groaned at the heat.

before i knew it, i was dead asleep.

SPENCER'S POV

i didn't buy it.

she never gets sick, and when she does it's like she's dying. she doesn't laugh when she's sick, and her voice wasn't as nasally.

don't get me wrong, something was obviously wrong with her, but she wasn't sick sick. maybe another sick.

what else would cause her to cancel plans with me? she's never done that before.

although, there was one time where she mentioned her needing to go to the doctor for a consult about a cyst. maybe it was the cyst?

wait... her uterus. the cyst was on her uterus.

we were on a case a couple months back, and this unsub was hard to track down. when we managed to figure out where he was, she ended up having to chase him down. she had to run a mile for at least 7 minutes before actually getting him. he was only 25 and was an exercise fanatic.

after catching the guy and bringing him in she had a hard time hiding her discomfort. even at the station, abut an hour later, she was still grabbing her lower stomach in pain. when i asked her what was wrong she told me about the cyst and where it was.

although, the cyst never really affected her energy level since then. she was able to go out on cases and perform perfectly fine.

the only thing that it could've been would be her- ohhh!!

oh...

i should get her something. food. she loves food.

she's probably in a lot of pain right now because of that. she shouldn't have to handle that pain 24/7. she was so sweet, and caring, and generous, and loving, and undeserving of any sort of discomfort.

to be honest, i've had the largest crush on her since after she joined the BAU. who wouldn't?

she's such an amazing person. just being around her lightens my mood. not to mention her beauty. don't get me wrong, i absolutely love her mind and everything about her personality, but the beauty she beholds is beyond anything i've ever encountered. then again, maybe the feelings i have for her boost that beauty in my eyes.

it was that beauty that kept me quiet. why would someone with beauty as ethereal as hers even look at a guy like me? it's like she's not meant for this world. she's too good for this world.

i'm in too deep now to share my feelings. i would do anything to keep her light in my life, even if that meant keeping all my love for her bottled up.

my heart ached at the thought of her in pain that i can't help her subside. the least i could do is be there for her.

i quickly grabbed my keys- yes, that's right. i'm driving for her. what kind of man am i?- and headed out of my apartment.

i went to the grocery store and picked up some of her favorites, dark chocolate, mint chip ice cream, kale chips, and... chinese. she loves chinese, so surely that's what she's craving. if she doesn't want it i would gladly get her whatever it is she does want.

i would give her the entire world if i could.

after picking the items up, i made my way to her place and pulled her key out of my pocket after she didn't answer my knock the first couple times. We had both decided to give each other a copy of our keys for safety purposes, result of me becoming the designated driver after a girl's night out gone wrong.

long story short, all the girls left with someone, leaving Y/N stranded at a heavily populated bar. if the girls weren't drunk when they left then i know i would've scolded them for leaving her in such danger. hell, they were FBI agents and left a friend who wasn't in her right mind alone in the middle of the night.

the only reason i was able to pick her up was because she drunkingly called me, slurring her words together. that's a story for another time.

i held the bags in one hand and the chinese food under my arm while i unlocked the door and quitely walked in. i saw her laying down on the couch, looking so peaceful.

SECOND PERSON

spencer looked at you as you slept. he noticed the heating pad laying on your back as your face was partially smushed from the couch. he'd never seen anything so adorable.

he pushed a strand of hair out of your face as he gently tapped your shoulders to wake you. you squinted at him in confusion for a second before you finally spoke.

"spencer? wh-what're you doing here?" you questioned him in disbelief.

you had no idea why he was here. you had told him you couldn't go out, right?

"me being the amazing profiler i am figured out what was actually wrong," he gloated. "i brought your favorite snacks and came with chinese food. if you want something else i could always go back out and-"

"did you drive?" you squeaked.

"why wouldn't i? you're in pain right now, that's the least i could do to somehow help you," he gushed.

you felt tears pricking your eyes at his confession. how could someone be so selfless and kind as to put themselves though something they hate doing for you?

"hey-hey, what is it?" he worriedly questioned.

"i-it's just... th-that's so sweet, and nice, and you hate driving, and you're such an amazing person, and i don't deserve you," you sniffled out, the tears flowing past my eyes as you sat up on the couch to give him a place to sit.

He grabbed the heating pad that fell off your back and set it on the coffee table before wiping your tears. His arms wrapped around your shoulders as you lightly cried into his shirt for a few minutes before pulling back.

"sorry about your shirt," you whined.

"don't worry about it. and i truly think it's me who doesn't deserve you, Y/N," he said softly. "now, let's dig into the food. i'm actually hungry right now, i had to smell it the entire way here and it's been taunting me ever since," he said seriously, eliciting another laugh out of you. "oh! there she is! i love hearing your laugh," he smiled.

"oh, you're just saying that," you waved him off as he feigned offense with a loud gasp.

"are you accusing me of lying, Y/N? i'm terribly offended," he shot his hand over his heart in an attempt to mock pain as he groaned.

"i would never, spencie," you taunted with a smirk before getting an actual cramp.

your face contorted slightly in pain as you bent over in an attempt to ease the discomfort. it felt like someone was stabbing your entire lower stomach and punching you all at once. the pain and sudden movement made your head begin to throb intensely, so you didn't know where to put your hands. your stomach or head? you chose stomach.

spencer felt horrible as he watched you go through such pain.

"what hurts, Y/N/N? let me help you," spencer pleaded.

"head. really bad," you groaned.

he got behind you as his hands found your temples and began massaging them gently, being able to subside the pain pulsing in your head. while your stomach still hurt, the pain became bearable again, allowing you to sit up and face spencer. he saw that your eyes were full of tears once again and his arms flew around you.

he hated that you had to go through that... every month too? your pain tolerance has always been high, something spencer learned after you got shot in the thigh and didn't even shed a tear, so he knew the fact that tears were in your eyes had meant the pain had to be terrible.

"food?" he said softly, you nodded eagerly, still being wary of the headache.

he went into your kitchen and put away the ice cream, chocolate, and kale chips before getting the chinese. he grabbed you a water bottle from your fridge before exiting the kitchen and sitting beside you on the couch.

"why didn't you tell me they were this bad?" spencer wondered.

"i didn't want you to worry, or see me like this," you shrugged.

it was true, you hated anyone seeing you hurt or weak. you prided yourself on being tough and strong enough to withstand most things. the fact that a measly monthly period was breaking you hurt your ego more than you'd like to admit.

for spencer, he didn't care. the only thing he wanted to do was make sure you were okay and be there for you when you weren't. he was determined to help you through this time. it made him feel... important. he enjoyed caring for others as it gave him a sense of purpose.

"Y/N, i don't care what state you're in. i always enjoy seeing you. and i'm always here to help you. asking for help makes you stronger than you'd think," he soothed you.

one thing you loved about him was that he always had a way with words. he was able to make you feel safe in the most dangerous situations, calm in the most chaotic, comfortable in the most destitute, and all with words.

you ate your food rather quickly after realizing you hadn't eaten all day. you were unashamed of eating that much, too. you'd become so comfortable with him over the years that you didn't feel embarrassed over something as routine as eating as you normally would with others.

after spencer finished eating he insisted on cleaning up rather than you do it yourself.

and to think, you thought you couldn't fall deeper in love with the man and here you were, falling deeper the longer he stayed.

little did you know that spencer was already madly in love with you.

he came back and sat beside you gently, looking at you with the utmost adoration that you couldn't see since you were back to being doubled over in pain.

"let's get you laid down, hmm?" spencer suggested as he gently rubbed your back.

"mhmm," you agreed, sitting up far too quickly. your back shot out in pain as you tried to straighten out, bringing a groan to your lips and causing you to twist your torso in an attempt to avoid any more hurt. "i guess i can just stay here," you said, resuming the doubled-over position.

spencer wanted to cry himself seeing you so defeated. you were the most strong-willed person he knew and here you were, giving up on something. he wouldn't let that happen.

"you'll be more comfortable in the bed. i'll carry you since you can't get up, okay?" spencer suggested.

you hummed in defeat as he swiftly scooped you up, leaving your body folded up as you swung your arms around his neck. he laid you down on the bed gently as you groaned at your back stretching out.

"turn over on your stomach," spencer ordered.

"wh-what? why?" you wondered.

"you'll see when you do it, ms. stubborn-pants," he teased.

you groaned and flopped onto your stomach, reaching to cuddle the pillow your head was resting on. spencer secretly wished he was that pillow.

his hands fell onto your back, applying light pressure right between your shoulder blades.

"ohh, this is what you were gonna do," you hummed in content as his hands continued to work their magic. he gathered your hair and pulled it to the side as he worked his way up to your neck. "ugh that feels amazing, spence," you groaned.

spencer huffed a laugh at your enthusiasm, him being happy that he can subside some of your pain. if doing something as simple as giving you a massage made you happy, he was happy.

spencer worked his hands back down to your shoulders and worked out nearly every single knot on your back. you felt your breathing slow from the relaxation and didn't even realize how good of a distraction your hands on her body were. if only you could massage my boobs, you thought with a laugh.

"umm... what?" spencer questioned.

"hmm?" you questioned, suddenly realizing that you had said that out loud. "i didn't say anything," you said, your voice raising an octave as you spoke.

spencer knew what he had heard, but decided to drop it to make you more comfortable.

"right, sorry," he said with a smile. maybe you did have feelings for him.

he continued the massage and noticed you were asleep after about ten more minutes. He sighed as he watched your hair move with each breath you took. he relished in the fact that he helped you achieve something, that he was useful for something.

"god, i love you so much," he whispered. "i love you so much, i don't even think i could tell you how much i truly love you."

you were awake. you heard him. you heard every word. you were in that weird between stage when you weren't really asleep, but you weren't necessarily awake either.

"i love you too, spencer," you spoke.

spencer shot up at your words, realization hitting him as you stirred in what he assumed was your sleep. you rolled over onto your back and looked into his eyes.

"i love you so, so much, spence," you smiled, noticing the shocked look on his face.

"y-you do?" he babbled.

"of course i do. how could i not?" you quipped, noticing his utter nervousness.

"i-i can't believe it. you love me?"

"how many times do i have to say it? i love you, spencer reid. i love you," you said as the shocked expression on his face turned into one of pure happiness and joy.

"i love you, Y/N Y/L/N. i've loved you for so long..." he trailed off, bringing your body into his arms.

"and fyi, i mean the romantic way if you didn't catch that," you joked.

"good because that's exactly how i meant it," he said, pulling back to look at you once again. "ca-can i kiss you?" he asked as his hands were balanced on the back of your neck.

you nodded eagerly before his lips crashed into yours passionately as you placed your hands on his face. the feeling of his sharp jawline with his scruffy facial hair something you've been wanting to feel against your skin for far too long.

spencer tugged gently at your hair, bringing a soft moan to your lips, allowing his tongue to enter your mouth gingerly. he was immediately granted dominance as you allowed his tongue to travel into your mouth, investigating it thoroughly.

you were both in a state of euphoria as you delved into each other's presence in a new manner. both of you knew this discovery would change your relationship, but you had both gone through every scenario in your minds in the many years' past.

you finally pulled back at another sharp pain in your uterus.

"ouchhh," you grimaced.

"are you okay? what can i do?" he wondered eagerly.

"just cuddle with me?" you asked with pleading eyes.

"of course i can," he smiled.

he moved up to the headboard and laid his head on one of your pillows after getting underneath the covers. after he opened his arms, you rested your head on his chest and threw one arm over his torso, interlacing your legs underneath the sheets. he brought one arm around your waist as the other drew you closer across your shoulders. You nestled your head into his neck and inhaled his comforting scent.

"you smell good," you giggled.

"thank you," he laughed at your compliment.

"spencer?" you asked.

"yea, Y/N?"

"you're my pain reliever."

[hexensalbei]

play with fire

find on ao3

This is going to be a fun ride.

The silence in the car is scary because itʼs uncomfortable and that has never been a problem before. Buck shoots a quick glance at his friend. Eddieʼs eyes are fixated on the road, his jaw so clenched, Buck swears, he can hear his teeth gritting. His hands are on the steering wheel but his grip is so tight, his knuckles are white. Yeah, heʼs definitely mad.

The problem is that Buck doesnʼt know why Eddie is so furious.

Fine.

Maybe he knows. But that doesnʼt mean he understands. Heʼs never seen Eddie that angry. He remembers vividly when Eddie snapped at him in the grocery store right after the lawsuit—but itʼs just a pale comparison to his rage now. It doesnʼt make sense—because Buck didnʼt do anything stupid like another lawsuit—he just... He just did his job.

He risked his life to save someone elseʼs but he does it almost on a daily basis; Eddie does the exact same thing and yet, Buck has never snapped at him. So why is it different now?

Because you almost died today says an annoying voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like his sister.

Because you almost died in Eddieʼs fucking arms.

Buck tries to ignore it; he has to ignore it because if he doesnʼt, heʼll drown in guilt and shame. And probably wake up some long forgotten demons.

He canʼt re-live it again and again.

When they stop, he realises, theyʼre in front of Eddieʼs house and heʼs genuinely surprised his friend brought him here.

“This isnʼt my apartment.” He blurts out. He knows itʼs probably the dumbest thing he couldʼve said but he doesnʼt understand why Eddie took him to his home if heʼs pissed off at him. Itʼd be definitely easier to cool off if the source of his anger wasnʼt there, right? 

“Like hell Iʼm letting you stay alone after the shit you did.”

Thereʼs something in Eddieʼs voice that makes Buck squirm. He sounds angry, sure, but also hurt, broken. Resigned. He sounds exactly like when Shannon died.

Buck knows that because he was there. He remembers how mad Eddie was at his wife for leaving him and Christopher again, this time for good.

Eventually, Eddie gets out of the car and goes to the house. Buck quietly follows his best friendʼs footsteps and he flinches when Eddie drops off his bag on the floor.

“You can take a shower if you want, Iʼll make up the bed.”

He knows Buck too well; he knows that Buck hates the specific smell of the hospital and always tries to get rid of it as soon as possible. Buckʼs really grateful for that also because he can simply postpone their argument, just for a little bit. Maybe shower will help him cool off because heʼs irritated too but he doesnʼt truly want to fight with Eddie. He goes to the bathroom, takes off his clothes and steps under the shower. He lets the cold water run down his body and he really tries to calm himself; there was enough drama today and yeah, he almost died so he deserves to have a moment of uninterrupted peace. Or so he thinks. Heʼs getting more and more cold and he knows he should get out before Eddie will storm inside and drag him out of the shower. Buck wouldnʼt be even surprised if his friend did something like this.

Then, with a long sigh, he turns off the water and steps out of the shower. He quickly rinses himself with a towel and slips into his most comfortable clothes. Whatʼs a little funny and maybe even ironic, his favorite grey, worn out t-shirt is actually Eddieʼs and it even smells like him.

Crap.

He really needs to finally leave the bathroom and face his friend but heʼs trying to delay the inevitable by thoroughly brushing his teeth. And then, he doesnʼt find anything else he can do so he goes back to the living room. Heʼs quite surprised that he doesnʼt see the pillows or blanket on the couch because he thought heʼs gonna sleep there and heʼs even more surprised he doesnʼt see Eddie there. He finds him in the kitchen instead, leaning against the counter and nursing his favourite beer. Thereʼs a glimpse of hope in Buckʼs chest that maybe Eddie cooled off a little, that maybe he realised he has exaggerated and his anger isnʼt completely justified. Heʼs wrong, though. Eddie is not even slightly less annoyed and it takes Buck one look at his best friend to realise that.

He sighs again because Eddieʼs anger starts to get on his nerves. He moves closer until he stands against Eddie and looks him in the eye.

“Do what you have to do, letʼs get this over with.” He says with a tiredness in his voice. The only thing he wants right now is sleep, he wants to fall asleep and forget about the whole world for a couple of hours. “If you want to yell at me then be my guest and do it. I donʼt even care.”

“Oh, so now youʼre annoyed at me? Really?” Eddie asks wryly and sets aside the bottle with a little too much force, it almost smashes. Neither of them care anyway. Theyʼre now standing against each other, so close they almost hear each otherʼs heartbeat and they fix each other with a glare. 

“Yeah, I am. You act like Iʼve done something wrong, like I wasnʼt supposed to do this and—” 

Heʼs cut off by Eddie who lets out a humourless laugh and answers in a higher voice than usual. 

“God, do you even listen to yourself? You went to that building all by yourself, you disobeyed Bobbyʼs specific orders to not go there because youʼre you and youʼre above all the orders, right? It doesnʼt matter if Bobby did it because he didnʼt want to risk one of us dying there. But you just couldnʼt listen.”

“Funny thatʼs coming out from the man who cut his rope and almost died in the well.” Buck interjects viciously because heʼs truly angered by now.

Something flashes in Eddieʼs eyes but Buck canʼt name it. He doesnʼt even have the time to think about it because his best friend doesnʼt back out.

“Itʼs not relevant now, weʼre talking about today and your stupid, reckless behaviour. What were you thinking? Or-Or maybe donʼt. You probably werenʼt thinking at all. Obviously. And it almost cost you a life! Your life! How can you be so reckless?!” Eddie shouts and the pain in his voice is very noticeable but Buck pretends to ignore it.

“Iʼm a firefighter. Itʼs kinda in a job description, donʼt you think? Sometimes I have to be a little reckless. Besides, I did save a life and I didnʼt die either, right? Otherwise I wouldnʼt be standing there and listen to you being all pissed.” Buck shrugs like itʼs nothing, like he really doesnʼt care about his life. Itʼs probably another thing he shouldnʼt have said because Eddie straightens up and now, thereʼs almost no space between. For the second Buck thinks Eddie will lash out and just hit him. He kinda wishes he did. But Eddie only sighs heavily and rakes through his hair with frustration. 

“God, youʼre driving me crazy, Buckley. Youʼre so dumb and stubborn and you donʼt even stop for a second to think about the consequences of your actions. You donʼt even care what would happen if you actually died, do you?”

Thereʼs something in Eddieʼs voice, something hard to catch and name that stops Buck from responding immediately. His words are ringing in his ears because they are annoyingly true. He didnʼt think about the consequences of his eventual death. He literally just stormed inside the building to find a man despite Bobbyʼs direct order to not go there because it was already too dangerous. He did it anyway, he managed to save a life but he didnʼt manage to get out in time and the whole building just collapsed. He doesnʼt remember much but he certainly remembers being held out by Eddie and his donʼt you dare die here, you dumbass. 

It mustʼve been scary, he admits, and he thinks he understands how Eddie mustʼve felt because he also saw his best friend almost dying. But the anger? He still doesnʼt get it.

“Iʼve had a few close calls during the years. Why is it so different now?” He finally asks.

“Because Iʼm in love with you, you asshole!” Eddie cries out. “And you just keep dying on me and I canʼt take it anymore!”

Buckʼs brain short-circuits. He mustʼve died after all, right? There is no real possibility Eddie just told heʼs in love with him. Thereʼs no possibility he may actually reciprocate his feelings. Thereʼs no way itʼs not just his hallucination or some kind of weird dream in his afterlife. But he desperately wants to be the truth, desperately needs validation for his thoughts. So he does the first thing that comes to his mind: he grabs Eddie by the collar of his Henley and crashes their lips together. His friend is definitely surprised, even shocked and for a moment, he does nothing. Buck already starts to panic because he thinks it’s real and he might’ve misheard everything or even projected it and just destroyed their friendship. But then, Eddie suddenly changes position and pushes Buck until he leans against the counter. And when he kisses him, all thoughts and doubts are completely gone from Buckʼs mind. The only things that matter are Eddieʼs lips on his, Eddieʼs hands on his body, Eddie utterly focused on him and that desperate need to fulfil their desire. Buck mightʼve kissed a lot of people in his life; he has had both awkward and amazing kisses but they cannot compete to make out with his best friend. It feels entirely different, maybe because Eddie loves him back. They break apart only for a couple of seconds to take a breath; Buck sits on the counter and brings Eddie closer by the belt. He canʼt take his eyes off him; Eddie looks wonderful with already swollen lips, flushed cheeks and a spark in his eyes. He probably looks no better but he doesnʼt even care.

“I know youʼve probably already noticed but I love you too, asshole.” He says in a teasing voice, inches away from Eddieʼs lips.

“Well, I mightʼve suspected it when you kissed me but itʼs nice to actually hear it. But donʼt even think that you say you love me, bat your eyelashes and kiss me this way and I wonʼt be angry at you.” Eddie warns half-seriously.

“I can try.” Buck just smirks and kisses him again. This time, he also quickly unbuckles the belt Eddieʼs wearing and starts to lift his shirt. His friend doesnʼt even protest, he lets him do whatever he wants and thatʼs why his Henley ends up somewhere on the floor. Then, the blonde moves from his lips to his neck and slowly makes his way down, planting kisses on his chest. Itʼs crazy how quickly their anger turned into lust. Now, the tension between them is much better, more exciting, easy to resolve. 

Eddie lets out a loud moan when Buck—this sneaky bastard—grabs his ass and squeezes it.

“Youʼre a menace.” He hisses.

“Oh, you should wait with the sweet talk after Iʼm done with you, Diaz.” Buck grins and he doesnʼt stop with the teasing. He unzips Eddieʼs jeans painfully slowly and Eddie almost whines to hurry up. The younger man notices it and winks at him before he adds. “Although Iʼm not sure if youʼll be able to talk at all.” 

“So maybe quit talking, Evan, and show me your skills?” 

“As you wish, Edmundo.”

[sassycassie-s-writing]

My Favorite Smile

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): DC/BatFam - Jason Todd/Red Hood

Rating: PG-11/T- (this one has a couple ✨swear words✨ in it lol. I don’t usually write them out, but sometimes you just gotta say what you mean)

Original Idea: X (Obsessed with this channel right now)

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) 2,182 words... it’s a longer one again. I casually wrote this in, like, two hours. @welovegroot @jason-redhood @jason-todd-squad

^^^^^

Holding his coffee and croissant, Jason looked around the crowded café for a place to sit. Every table was occupied by at least one person, and the rules of personal space in public said the couches were full, with one person sitting on either end.

His eyes fell on a table with a single occupant.

His heart stuttered to a stop. Wait… is that her? Damn, she looks good this time. He scoffed at himself. Who am I kidding? She looks good every time. Should I talk to her? Should I tell her? She didn’t believe me last time… and I don’t know if I can stand another lifetime without her… but last life we didn’t meet till I was almost fifty. I really wasn’t expecting to find her this early.

He straightened up and strode over to her table. “Excuse me, is it alright if I sit here? The café’s pretty crowded and the other tables are full.”

She looked up and Jason’s brain stopped working as she met his eyes. She was just as incredible as she always was. Thousands upon thousands of years, and he still never got over how beautiful she was. “Sure, go ahead,” she said with a smile before going back to her phone.

—

“I’m Jason, by the way,” the man said, sitting down.

I glanced back up and gave him my name in return.

He smiled. He had a handsome smile. Just looking at him… something tugged in the back of my mind. “That’s a pretty name,” he said.

My ears warmed and I looked away. “Thanks,” I muttered. I looked back at him. “Sorry if this sounds… weird—but have we met before?” I cringed but smiled. If we had…oh it’d be so embarrassing if I’d forgotten him. And a man as handsome as him—how could I have forgotten?

But a look of delight crossed his face, before being replaced by one of neutrality. “Not in this lifetime,” he replied.

“Kind of an odd way to word it,” I remarked before I could overthink whether that sounded really rude or not.

Jason’s ears turned red. “Well… yeah I guess so. Sorry.” He looked down at his coffee cup and croissant and chose to take a sip of his drink. After swallowing, he looked back up at me. “This is probably gonna sound really creepy, but please just hear me out for a few minutes. Do you believe in soulmates?”

I reached up and scratched an itch just behind my ear. “I mean… kind of? I think maybe they exist for some people, and other people could be matched equally well with multiple potential partners,” I said.

His shoulders slouched with a sigh of what might have been relief. “Thank goodness,” he said. He met my eyes. “Because… we’re soulmates. You and I. Sometimes—very rarely—two people are so destined to be together, that they’re reborn over and over to stay together throughout thousands of years’ worth of lifetimes. Sometimes we both remember, sometimes only one of us does. I don’t think there’s ever been a lifetime where neither of us remember. Besides the first, I guess. Back when we didn’t know we’d be reborn. We never look the same twice—different bodies, different backgrounds. But we always have the same soul.”

A reasonable person would have thought he was making up a really long, bad pickup line. But I stared at him with rapt attention. Like some missing puzzle piece I’d been looking for my entire life fell into place. It just sounded… right.

“How do we find each other, if we look different every time?”

He took a deep breath. “Well… when one or both of us remember, we can… kind of sense it? Kind of see it? Like, right now, I see you, but I also see every face of yours that I’ve seen across every lifetime.” He cleared his throat. “Sometimes we don’t. Find each other, I mean. The distance between where we’re born or the timing of our rebirths keep us apart. But there’s only been… three of those, if I remember right.” He laughed. “So glad you believed me this time. It would have sucked if you got a restraining order—because those are a thing now—and I had to spend this life without you.”

I leaned forward, shoving my phone in my pocket. “Tell me more,” I said.

“Where do you want me to start?”

“Um… I don’t know. The beginning? Our first life?”

He nodded. “Ancient Greece,” he said. “Like, really early in Ancient Greece’s history. The gods blessed us. Bound our souls for eternity. Your hair is actually the same color now as it was back then. Kind of a… nostalgic favorite of mine. You’re absolutely stunning every time I see you, but I have some favorites. You do too.”

I snickered. “Oh really? Like what?”

“Well… I always think you’re adorable with dimples or freckles. Green eyes are a favorite of mine too. And your current hair color is my favorite. There were also a few times where you were a little taller than me. Those were nice. You’re most comfortable to hug that way. But, without fail, every single lifetime I see your smile and I think, ‘That one. That one’s my new favorite.’” He chuckled. “As for you, you’ve told me that you like me best with brown eyes—even though you don’t like brown eyes normally. Um… you also like it when my hair is curly.” He gestured to his black hair, slightly curled, with two white curls arcing down the center of his forehead. “You told me… seven lifetimes ago? That you like me best with piercings and tattoos, but when I brought it up last lifetime you said even when I have them I still look like, and I quote, a ‘giant nerd.’”

We both laughed. Jason sighed and shook his head.

“Then again, you said that was your favorite during our pirate lifetime. And I can also say hot damn you looked good with tattoos and a big hat.”

I gasped out a laugh. “We were pirates?”

He laughed too. “Yeah. Well, you were. To start with, anyway. You and your crew were visiting my town and you, absolutely drunk, stumbled into my house. I was a carpenter that time. Thank the gods we both remembered that lifetime or I probably would have shot you. You spent half the night drunkenly blathering about how much you hated my hair when it was long the way it was and that you’d cut it off if I didn’t. The next morning, when you’d sobered up, you apologized. And I’d said it was fine. And… you asked me to come with you. I’ve spent dozens of lifetimes endlessly in love with you. So, like the lovesick fool I am and was, I said yes.

“It… was not a long lifetime. Pirates rarely made it to old age. We were both killed when a Royal Navy ship attacked us. I went down first. You told me in our next lifetime that you single-handedly killed half of that crew’s sailors in revenge even though you knew you’d see me again—because you’d been having so much fun that life and they ruined it. Eventually their captain killed you himself.” He took a bite of his croissant.

It was certainly a lot to take in. But everything he said was so vivid… I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination coming up with the images or… memories that had merely been locked away somewhere deep inside. The sea. The deck of a ship. An octopus tattoo on my left forearm, tentacles reaching to the back of my hand, a similar one on his tanned, scarred neck. Curly auburn hair, a scruffy beard. Brown leather coat and blood under his nails. Pierced ear and eyebrow. A tattoo of a mermaid with a face and wild hair that I knew must have been mine on his right thigh as we found alone time together in my cabin—a pile of leather clothes in a heap on the floor, topped by a big hat with a big feather.

I met his eyes again. “Tell me about another one.”

He smiled. “Well… there was another time I was a soldier. You remembered. I didn’t. I passed through your town on my way to report for duty, and the weather got bad. Your family owned a tavern that doubled as an inn. So, that was where I stayed. You didn’t tell me. I fell in love with you anyway. You would tell me stories and sing for me and make me food in private. When the weather improved, I went off to war and, miraculously, I survived. Even though I spent most of my time that fight thinking about you. I came back to your inn and asked you to marry me. You said yes. We were married soon after. I had to leave a lot. Fighting battles I didn’t care about. Eventually, I came home injured and dying. You held my hand and promised you’d see me soon. I thought you meant heaven or just said it to comfort me. You never told me we were endlessly-reborn soulmates.

“When I was about fifteen my next lifetime, all my memories came back. We both remembered that time, actually. When we ran into each other again we got into such a big argument about you not telling me. Literally picked up right where we left off. Two twenty-year-olds bickering like the old married couple we were. The life after I don’t remember is always a bit of a wild ride as all my memories come back. I imagine it’s similar for you. It’ll be similar for you.”

He reached across the table and took my hand. I squeezed his fingers. Our hands fit together perfectly. I wondered why I’d told him I liked him best with brown eyes when his blue eyes were absolutely gorgeous. “So… what now?” I asked.

He made a face. “Beginnings are always hard when one of us doesn’t remember. Because I have thousands of years of love for you, and you don’t even know me.” His fingers tightened around mine. “I’d like to take you out on a date, if you’ll let me.”

“Does it count as a first date?”

He smiled. It was a sad smile. “It can. It does for this life.”

“Have we… ever had children? Together?”

Jason regarded me thoughtfully. “We have,” he said. “But our bloodlines never last long. Usually we’re lucky to get great-grandchildren. We’re blessed to be together forever, but our families die off quickly. You speculated once that it’s the blessing’s attempt to make sure we’re not reborn into our own bloodline.”

“So we have no living descendants.”

“No. It’d be a little weird if we did. Like ‘Hey, kiddo, you’re our great-great-great-grandson! I know we’re younger than you but trust us!’” Jason laughed.

I could get drunk on that laugh. “I’d… I’d like to go on that date.”

He looked elated—and relieved. “Me too. I’d like to get to know you again.” He glanced around the crowded café. “What do you say we get out of here and go somewhere quiet and I can tell you more stories about our lives? You’ve always been the far superior storyteller, but I learned from the best.”

I smiled. “Yeah. Let’s get out of here. I want to hear everything.”

He helped me to my feet. I gathered my jacket, cup, and phone. “Great. I can’t wait to tell you about the time I was a magician.”

I giggled. “My place or yours?”

“Mine. I have a memento from our most recent past life that I tracked down. I’d like you to have it.”

“What is it?”

Jason didn’t answer immediately. Just held my hand as we left the café. Gotham’s overcast autumn sky was chilly. “I… I want it to be a surprise but I’m also too excited to tell you.” He bit his lower lip, staring at me. “Gah. Fine. It’s your wedding ring. I found it at an antique shop not far from where our oldest niece lived. We didn’t have any kids, last life. We didn’t meet till I was forty-nine and you were forty-three. We both decided it was too late for kids. But I had a few nieces and nephews. Our oldest niece was in charge of our estate. We died in the eighties. But I found your ring. You can use it again, eventually, if you want. Or we can get you a new one.” His face reddened. “I don’t mean to presume. But I don’t know if I can live without you this lifetime after having you for such a short time last life.”

I squeezed his hand. “Let’s try that first date first. I feel this pull toward you I can’t explain, but we’ll build up to the soulmate thing. Okay?” I smiled at him.

—

Jason couldn’t help but stare at her. Those eyes, that stunning face. This one, he thought. This smile is my favorite.

[skye-huntress]

RWBY Panel 2021 Reaction

I figured why not. I was up at three in the morning to watch the panel just for even the smallest sneak peak or news of Volume 9 so I might as well throw out my reactions and thoughts into the void of the internet.

Let me start off with the biggest non-news, the lack of date for Volume 9. In the back of my mind, this was something I feared to expect. Between the pandemic, the blackouts, and probably a lot of other disrupting forces I am not aware about, it’s not reasonable to expect CRWBY to be at the same place with every upcoming volume every year. Similar for the Volume 8 Soundtrack, though for that I wasn’t expecting to hear any new updates on.

I am interested in the new game, Arrowfell, though I will admit that side-scrollers are not a style of game I’ve ever found compelling. It’s RWBY though, so of course I am going to check it out. They never said anything about what platforms it would be on though.

Now for the sneaky peak:

I’ll admit, that first half of it was intense. It really brought everything back, the anxiety, the near-panic, the anticipation of what would happen. It felt fresh seeing it from Ruby’s perspective.

Maybe seeing Yang’s fall happen in realtime will get people to lighten up on Ruby and realise that she couldn’t have really done anything, but I doubt it.

It is interesting to see how the edges of Ruby’s vision light up when she’s trying to call on her silver eye powers. I’d wager she experiences other sensations as well when its working and not just the sudden fatigue we see her go through after the fact.

So Neo is still attacking Ruby on sight despite the fact this path may have already sealed both their fates. I feel I should say this, I don’t think there is any reasoning with Neo. If she’s half as smart as she thinks she is, there’s no way she genuinely believes Ruby is responsible for Roman’s death. She went after Cinder first for a reason. She’s angry and in pain, and she needs someone a little easier to stab than a rogue maiden to take out her frustrations on. Ruby’s just a convenient scapegoat for Neo. One way or another, it will end this volume.

Oscar, Yang, Penny. These are all people Ruby has failed recently. Oscar was captured and tortured and Ruby didn’t even hear of it until afterwards. Yang took the blow meant for her and was the first to fall. Penny is the Maiden and it was Ruby’s job to protect her but now she is at Cinder’s mercy and that bitch doesn’t even have the word in her vocabulary. I feel this is the volume where Ruby has to confront her failures and increasing doubts about her leadership. We’ve been building up to it for a while

All alone and unarmed on a shore, in a strange place in another world. Nothing to do but keep moving forward.

At the very least, that she landed in the same realm we saw Crescent Rose suggests all or at least some of the Fallen have ended up in the same place.

Predictions

For Ruby, I think this will be a critical volume for her. All sorts of negativity has been building up with her for a while now and with her current situation, the fate of her friends, and when the news of Penny’s death inevitably reaches her, something is going to give. This might be a break from the plot but it is also a break for Ruby to reevaluate her leadership, her choices and how she’s been handling basically everything. How this changes her will likely determine the direction of the show and how the protagonists confront Salem going forward.

For Weiss, this could also be a big volume for her. For one, she’s gained and lost a lot this volume. Atlas, for all its faults which caused her to leave it twice, was her home, and now it is rubble and those of her people that survived are now refugees in a Kingdom they are not necessarily welcome. She confronted her father, and was working on her relationship with the rest of her family, but is now separated from them. She wasn’t as close with Penny as Ruby, but she lost her, too, and now her sister has the same target on her back and is probably doomed to suffer the same fate sooner or later. She also thought she lost her other family and it will be bittersweet to find herself stranded with them if when she can find them again. It’s been a rollercoaster for her.

While on this note, I think we are due for a heart-to-heart between Ruby and Weiss. Ruby recently had a talk with both Blake and Yang about her leadership, but I think Weiss has the best chance of actually reaching her. After all, Weiss was the first one to openly express doubts about Ruby being a leader, and it was also a position she once coveted for herself. Weiss is the sceptic turned believer, and she’s not afraid to call things as they are, so I think she is and always was the best one to talk to Ruby about this, which is why I think they never had this conversation before. Now that Ruby is in this critical stage, of course this is the perfect time for her once reluctant and now devoted partner to put in her two cents.

Since everything went down with Adam and her relationship with Yang improved, I haven’t been quite sure where Blake’s character arc will go from there. When Yang fell, she nearly completely lost and it clouded her judgment. After her talk with Nora, I wonder if Blake herself needs to reevaluate if perhaps there are parts about her own life and wellbeing that she has neglected since she and Yang have gotten closer. Perhaps it’s a time for her to reevaluate her priorities, which doesn’t necessarily mean distancing herself from Yang but it could still mean she puts more effort into herself and her other relationships, especially with Ruby, Weiss and Jaune.

Yang was the first to fall and everything went to shit after the fact. She stopped a sneak attack on Ruby but she couldn’t stop Neo or Cinder, and she was not there for her team or Penny. That moment is probably also too familiar to what happened with Adam at Beacon for Yang’s comfort, not that I think there was anything she could do better in either situation besides simply being faster. I don’t know what Yang’s response to everything will be, what effect this will have on her. Plus I can’t forget that she’s probably suffering a concussion right now.

As for the Bees, despite all they’ve been through and even with the split that happened last volume, they were still closer than ever. There’s a mutual respect there for each other’s decisions. If one is going through something, the other will be there to talk them through it or even simply be a shoulder to cry on. If this is a situation that they’ll be stuck on for the foreseeable future, at least they have each other and there are worse places they could be stranded in. Despite everything that happened or maybe even because of it, it might seem the perfect setting and timing for some confessions and more.

Now to Jaune. He certainly hasn’t had it easy. From the start, he was the furthest behind among his peers, and now he’s been licensed earlier than most of them. Pyrrha helped him a lot with that, and was the first to believe in him and she was taken from him, and it seems he came to terms with that since Argus. He didn’t let his grief blind him and he stayed on task with the evacuation, and he wasn’t reckless when he did confront Cinder. He did everything right, but it wasn’t enough to save Penny and in the end he had little choice but to respect her dying wish. It had to be done, I don’t blame him for being put in that position, but it’s still got to hurt. It’s also so appropriate that his weapon, one of his most important tools as a Huntsman, was broken after spilling innocent blood, almost like a punishment(?) for his “betrayal” to what a Huntsman is suppose to be. He’s going to carry this until the day he dies, and now he has to face his friends, especially his best friend whom was the closest of all of them to Penny.

Finally Neo. Like I said, I don’t think she can be reasoned with. She abandoned any sort of rationale a long time ago, and it will take more than words to shake her out of it, if it’s even possible anymore. I doubt there will be a peaceful solution to this conflict, it feels too similar to what went down with Adam towards his end. He also refused to back down, he too insisted on making Blake his scapegoat, and despite being given every chance to walk away, he persisted until his death. Time will tell if Neo can avoid that fate, but my doubts about that have only strengthened since the sneak peak.

As for Oscar and the others, I already had my doubts about whether we’d see them at all. The way CRWBY talked about this volume, it seems clear that this is our break from the main narrative so I doubt we will be seeing much of Vacuo yet. I am more than okay with that, it’d be good to take a break from the main plot and focus and our main girls again and we’ll get more of that with a significantly reduced cast.

[mochegato]

Hope on Board

Chapter 11 - Zombies and Vampires and Werewolves, Oh My

Chapter 1     Chapter 10

“Are we ready?” Dick asked, looking to Marinette instead of looking around because ultimately, it was more a matter of whether she was comfortable and felt prepared than what they had.  He really didn’t care about the movie or the snacks. He was just ecstatic to have Marinette in his arms and without worrying about making her feel like throwing up if he touched her wrong, or at all, or even looked at her.

Marinette looked around, taking stock of their supplies in the dark room.  They had their huge bowl of popcorn, some chips, cookies she had made for them to snack on, disgusting looking cheap candy that Dick liked pushed as far away from her as it could be, she mentally thanked God she was almost completely over her morning sickness, otherwise she’d already be throwing up due to the smell alone, water, sodas, and ginger ale in the refrigerator.  They had enough supplies to feed an entire group and she recognized that, but she couldn’t stop herself from going overboard for Dick.

“I think we’re ready.” She nodded firmly. “We’re ready for an entire movie marathon if we wanted,” she chuckled self-consciously.  

Dick smiled and pulled her closer against himself. “I’m okay with that.  As long as you’re cuddled up against me and I can sneak kisses from time to time, I’ll be happy.”

She grinned up at him.  “Who says you have to sneak them?”

Dick grinned at the invitation and leaned down to give her a slow, sweet kiss.  He pulled away, gazing into her eyes affectionately and rubbing her cheek gently with his thumb.  “Are you comfortable?  Do you need another pillow?”

Marinette giggled and looked around them.  “Dick, I think we’re good.  I think if we stacked up the pillows, they’d be taller than me.”

Dick pouted.  “I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable.”

She cupped his face and pulled him down for a sweet, chaste kiss.  “I know. Thank you.  It means a lot.  Now, what did you choose for the movie?”

Dick looked back to the television and started navigating to the show he wanted to watch.  “I thought we could maybe watch that zombie show everyone is talking about. I keep hearing how amazing it is. They just released the entire series so we could binge on it.”  Marinette tensed in his arms.  He looked back at her apprehensively.  “Or… we could watch something else.”

She looked up at him guiltily, a frown pulling the corner of her lips down.  She started fidgeting with her fingers.  “I’m sorry. I just… zombie stories… it just brings back some… um… flashbacks?”

Dick raised an eyebrow at her. “Flashbacks?  Flashbacks to what?”

“Paris.  Akuma. One of the most effective ones we had. She turned almost everyone in Paris into one of her zombies.”  She shuddered at the memory.

He nodded and ran his hands over her arms. “Millions of zombies wandering around wanting to get you… yeah, I can see how that would be terrifying,” he soothed in an understanding voice.

She shook her head.  “It wasn’t really the zombies that were so scary, it was… have you ever seen your friends give themselves up in order to give you a few extra seconds to get away?  That’s what I see.  Not the monster coming.  My friends falling.  The look in their eyes.  The blood. The…”  She stared at her hands for a few moments before glancing back up at him with a humorless smile.  “Sorry. I just brought down the tone of the night.”

He shook his head.  “No, not at all.  We’re supposed to be getting to know each other better, right?  This is a part of you I never knew about.  I want to know.  And, I have. Seen people give themselves up to save me, I mean.  Not a mindless monster, but… yeah, I’ve had friends and family put themselves in the path of a rogue or a henchman in order to give me time to escape.  It… it makes you feel unworthy.”

She nodded along with his words.  “Undeserving.”

He nodded in agreement.  “Even knowing I would make the same choice.  I’m sorry you had to go through that.”  He pulled her in for a hug and nuzzled into her hair to comfort her.  “Any other horror movie tropes we should stay away from?”  He tried to lighten the mood.

Marinette pulled away to think about it.  “Growing up in Paris is kind of like a double edged sword when it comes to horror movies.  They aren’t really scary anymore because we’ve seen them all in real life and the movies could never match how terrifying it is in real life, when your or your friends’ or family’s lives are actually at stake.  But on the other hand, it triggers flashbacks.  

“I mean we had zombies, obviously, werewolves, vampires, chainsaw wielders, ghosts, gremlins, invisible terrors, baby killers, like, babies that killed, literal nightmares come to life, apocalypses, firestarter, that one was particularly gruesome.  I couldn’t go near any kind of flames for months.  Mermaids, not the like, kid’s movie version.  The drag you under the water to drown you kind.  We’ve had shapeshifters, water monsters, dragons, dinosaurs… I think the only horror story creature we didn’t have is Frankenstein. But evil, deranged monster only concerned about his own desires, creating amalgamated creatures to enact his psychopathic will… yeah, almost daily.”

Dick stared at her blankly for a few moments, trying to process everything she just said. “… No horror movies, ever.  Got it.”  Dick nodded absentmindedly.  “I never knew it was that bad there.  Were you ever… did you ever… I mean… I don’t know what I mean.”  There were so many questions he wanted to ask, but he didn’t know if he was ready to hear any of the answers.  He wasn’t ready to hear the suffering Marinette had gone through. She shouldn’t have had to have gone through any.

“There are so many questions that could be.  I’m going to need a bit more direction,” she chuckled mirthlessly.  “Did I ever get hurt?  Yes. Did I ever become an akuma? No.  Did I ever kill someone as an akuma?  Also no.  What did it feel like?  I don’t know. Was I the mermaid?  I wasn’t.  Did I get eaten by the dinosaur?  Eh.” She made a more or less motion with her hand.  “Did I ever date any of the heroes?  Pass.  Did I ever date any of the akumas?  Once, to distract him so Chat could get him.  Didn’t work.  Did I ever have to watch my family get hurt or killed?  So much.  Did I have to watch my friends get hurt or killed?  So often.  Did I ever die?”  She paused for a few seconds before shrugging in what she hoped was a nonchalant way. “Which one?”

Dick froze.  His chest stopped rising and falling.  He slowly licked his lips as he prepared them to form the words he didn’t want to say.  “Let’s start with have you ever died?”

“Yeah, I didn’t think you’d miss that.  I wasn’t thinking when I said it and then couldn’t take it back.”  She looked away and took a deep breath.  “Depends on the timeline.  I don’t remember dying.  I’m pretty sure that was a different me?  Oh,” her face fell as if just remembering something.  “I guess this me died a few times too.  But I’m still here so that doesn’t count, right?”

He opened and closed his mouth a few times trying to formulate his reaction.  She had died. She was gone.  Why did everyone in his life die?  He would have never gotten the chance to meet her, to imagine their life together, their baby.  “… I’m pretty sure it does.  How… um… but…”  

“One of the ladybug miraculous’ powers is reversing the damage done by miraculous users, including deaths,” she explained calmly. “The Eifel Tower was destroyed and brought back sooo many times.”

Dick nodded at her words, not really registering them.  She had died and she was so calm about it.  He studied her more intently.  She was looking away, her body tense but trying to appear relaxed.  No, she wasn’t calm about it, she just wanted him to be calm. She didn’t want to scare him.  He took a deep breath and smiled for her, but still didn’t know what to say.  He hugged her closer instead.

She stared at the popcorn bowl for a moment and grabbed a handful, popping one of the kernels into her mouth.  “We even had a popcorn monster once.  That one was amazing though.  Like… have you ever seen the episode of Scooby Doo where the monster trapped them in a giant vat of Scooby Snacks or where the monster was a giant Cotton Candy glob?  It was like that.  Hilariously ineffective.  Everyone kind of enjoyed that one.  Alix set up a projector and put on an impromptu outside movie experience.”

She was making a joke.  She was trying to lighten the mood.  He could work with that.  “Well that,” he reached over and stole some popcorn from her, “sounds fun.  And that cure thing would be helpful.  It would certainly be useful to have here.”  She chuckled at his attempt.  “Okay, how about a comedy, or a romance, or a Disney movie?  Something happy.”

Marinette nodded.  “That sounds good.” She watched as he scrolled through the movie options. “Oooh, how about that one?  I love the Princess Bride.”

Dick smiled, “As you wish.”

She looked up at him with a curious expression, unsure if he understood the significance of the phrase.  She turned to the movie and snuggled further into his chest deciding he didn’t and that was okay.  It was still really early in their relationship.  There were things she loved about Dick and she loved being with him, but she didn’t know if she loved him.  She imagined he felt the same.  They were getting closer and she was positive they were going to get there.  Until then, she enjoyed all the time she got to spend with him.

He ran languid fingers over her arm as the movie started, enjoying the way her skin felt under his fingers, relishing that he could feel her.  That she was there warm in his arms, not laying cold and dead in a box.  He slowly moved his fingers to stroke her side and circle her hip, down along her thigh and back up, dipping across her lower back. She ran her fingers up and down his chest in response.  They slowly became firmer strokes, getting bolder and running along the hem of his shirt.

His touches slowly became more caressing and lingering, lengthening the path and getting brasher.  He grazed along her breast as his hand passed.  She swallowed heavily, pushing further into his chest and moved her leg over his, rubbing it up and down along his leg.  Their eyes were still focused on the movie, but neither was watching anymore.  They both waited for the other to be the first to break and move their supposedly innocent movie night into something more.

Dick was the first one to break when Marinette dipped her pinky just below the waistband of his pants as she traced his abs.  Not far enough to touch anything sensitive, but enough to send his mind racing and let him know she was interested in doing more than watching the movie.  He cupped her face, staring intently at her for a few seconds before diving in to kiss her. She melted into his kiss.  He moaned as her tongue slipped in to meet his. She pushed up to deepen the kiss and grant him more access to explore her body with his hands.

He pushed their stockpile of pillows out of the way and twisted them to lay her down on the couch.  Her hair splayed out on the remaining pillow and she looked up at him with half lidded eyes.  He traced the lines of her cheek and jaw, looking at her in amazement.  The light from the movie was reflecting off her hair and eyes.  She had pulled her lower lip between her teeth as she gazed up at him lustfully.  Her shirt was pulled down just enough to get a good view of her breasts and the top of her lacy bra.  Her hands were running up and down his sides and back causing shock waves of pleasure through him.  “God, you are so sexy,” he murmured almost subconsciously.  

Her lips formed a sultry smile as her hands found their way to his neck and brought him back down to her lips.  She whimpered as his lips caressed hers and his hands massaged her.  She reached down and started pulling on his shirt.  He caught her intention and ripped it off, throwing it away to the side. It landed over the television, obscuring their view of the movie neither had any intention of watching.

Chapter 12

Tags:

@dickinette-february @demonicbusiness @ichigorose @iloontjeboontje @ladybug-182 @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @golden-promises @trippingovermyfeet @emimar7 @laurcad123

[ncssian]

Boughs of Holly

Nessian Oneshot

bye this was supposed to be posted hours ago 😭. anyway this is for @sayosdreams and @sayosdreams only. if you're not sayo close ur eyes ✋

this uses some ideas i’ve had bookmarked for later chapters of a favor so if you see some of this being reused in the future mind your business.

tw: friendliness with the ic

***

“They're not even trying to hide it anymore,” Mor muttered from the window. “They’re just rubbing it in our faces at this point.”

This Solstice Eve had forgone snow in favor of rain and sleet, but despite the terrible weather, Cassian and Nesta were taking their damn time making their way up to the riverside manor.

From the living room window, Feyre, Elain, and Mor could see how the couple's pace had considerably slowed as they walked up the sidewalk, chatting as they went. There was only one umbrella, held up by Cassian so that it covered Nesta more than himself. His own shoulder was getting drenched by rain, but he didn't even seem to notice as he listened to Nesta talk like she was delivering some holy gospel. One dark wing was stretched out to shield her back from the weather.

“I just don't get it,” Feyre said, her fingers pressed up against the glass. “If they're together, why haven't they said anything about it yet?” Feyre was trying to be less intruding in her sisters’ lives, but doing so meant that she couldn't go up to Nesta straight and ask about her and Cassian.

The relationship between Nesta and the war general upon their return from the Illyrian mountains had seemed normal enough at first— friendly, even generic. But the few times the Inner Circle found themselves in the same room as Nesta and Cassian, their interactions became more and more suspect. Little touches here and there, unprecedented amounts of laughter, and the worst of it: when Cassian had batted Azriel’s hand away from a platter of steak at their last family dinner, only to pick at each cut of meat and place the best ones on Nesta’s plate. Whenever anyone tried to bring up this behavior, however, they would only receive blank stares in return.

At this point, the Inner Circle was too intimidated to say anything. The only one who might have had the guts was Amren, but she only cackled every time Nesta and Cassian did something that thoroughly shocked their friend group.

“I think it's sweet,” Elain spoke up. “Even if they are playing mind games with us.”

“Will you come away from the window?” Rhysand clicked his tongue from near the fireplace. “You all look mad.”

A few moments later, a knock sounded from the front hall and Feyre jumped. “They’re here.”

She went to answer the door while Mor rushed to the couch, sitting casually in an attempt to act normal. Elain went over to a gift bag and started digging through it, while everyone heard the door opening and the sound of greetings.

“You’re dressed— casually,” Nesta's voice rang from the front hall.

The three of them appeared at the doorway of the living room, Nesta in a slim-fitting blue gown and Feyre in flannel pajamas. Cassian raised his brows at the sight of everybody.

Elain hurried over in her long nightgown and shoved something pink and silky into Nesta's arms. “The dress code is sleepwear!” she said. “Go get changed.”

While Nesta was ushered off to the bathroom, Cassian released a breath and shed his fancy jacket like it was on fire. “Glad we’re not doing that this year then.”

“Oh, we have something for you, too,” Azriel spoke up from the corner of the room.

Five minutes later, Cassian was in the ugliest knit sweater he’d ever seen in his life. In comparison, Nesta returned to the living room looking like a cherub in baby pink silk pajamas.

Nobody missed the way Cassian's eyes lit up as they spotted her in her new outfit, but she only took a seat on the couch next to him without a word.

Nesta's presence at Inner Circle functions was still awkward, like a puzzle piece that belonged to a different image, but it was also nothing like it had been just a year or two ago. She was so much more… comfortable with herself now, like she didn't mind playing along with Feyre’s family games every now and then, as long as she got to return home at the end of the night. And she did have a home now, though no one knew where it was.

“I just don't want any visitors for now,” she’d told Feyre when asked about her new place of residence. “You understand, right?”

And thanks to Feyre’s promise to be more understanding of Nesta, she’d had to drop the subject.

Solstice Eve went fairly well, with both Elain and Feyre overjoyed at their sister's participation. Nesta even went so far as to interact with Mor and Azriel without rolling her eyes, though Rhysand was politely ignored for the rest of the night. There was an unspoken agreement between the two of them that if they didn't talk to each other, Nesta couldn't be given an excuse to punch him in the face (as she could be prone to doing). Occasionally, Cassian would lean over and whisper something so lowly to Nesta it was barely a movement of the lips, inaudible to the others even with their fae hearing. Whatever he said would bring reactions anywhere from a serious nod to a light chuckle, and the room got a little still every time it happened.

Long after the night was over, Elain blinked out a drunken half-sleep to find that she was dreadfully thirsty. Crawling slowly enough out of bed that Azriel wouldn't wake, she padded blearily for the kitchen. She was halfway down the stairs when she heard the murmur of soft voices coming from the living room.

That woke her up fully. Eyeing the grandfather clock, she saw that it was four-thirty in the morning. The whole house should have been asleep by now.

Turning toward the living room, Elain paused just beyond the archway. The only light came from the dying glow of the fireplace, and in the armchair before it—

Nesta sat on Cassian’s lap, wrapped up in his arms with a small pile of gifts between them. They were engrossed in some low conversation about their plans for Solstice, but the way they were looking at each other…

Bile got caught with a gasp in Elain’s throat as Nesta leaned in to kiss Cassian. That was her big sister who Cassian had his hands all over, one of them squeezing her thigh and creeping dangerously higher.

When their kiss became deeper, with clear and present threat of tongue, Elain couldn't hold back her squeal.

Nesta jumped in Cassian’s lap. “Shit!”

Cassian brought a hand to his mouth, where Nesta had accidentally bitten down on his lip in surprise. They both whirled to face Elain in the doorway.

“You are together!” Elain accused, pointing. The idea of it was not as sweet as it had been a few hours ago, before Elain had caught her closest and coldest sister in such a vulnerable position with the Illyrian commander.

Cassian stared at her, then laughed deeply.

Nesta’s face was red under the firelight, out of anger or embarrassment, Elain didn't know. “No shit, we're together,” she said harshly. “What are you doing at this hour, Elain?”

“What do you mean, ‘no shit’?” Elain demanded. “You didn't tell anybody! You didn't even let us ask!”

Nesta looked at Elain like she was stupid, while Cassian wisely kept his mouth shut. “Why would we have to announce our relationship? Don’t you have eyes?”

Elain shut her mouth at that. “Well, we all thought…” she trailed off.

Cassian poked Nesta's side. “See what happens if you don't tell your family everything? They become clueless.”

She looked at Cassian. “It was fun to make them squirm, though, wasn't it?”

“So it was mind games,” Elain said.

“It wasn't anything except us keeping to our own business,” Nesta said. “We even share a home together and none of you noticed. That is not our problem.” She didn't sound irritated like she once might have been, but rather that the antics of the Inner Circle endlessly amused her. Nesta's friend group had certainly given her an odd sense of humor.

Elain blinked. “Oh— well… where do we go from here?”

Cassian played with the ends of Nesta’s ponytail. “You leave us alone and we get back to foreplay?” he suggested.

Nesta looked inclined to agree, but she elbowed Cassian in the ribs in defense of her sister anyway.

Elain shut her eyes, her pounding headache suddenly inescapable. “That might be a good idea.” She covered her face and turned for the kitchen. “I’m glad we could clear this up.”

She was not actually glad, but rather she was not sober enough yet to comprehend how Nesta and Cassian functioned as a couple. It wasn't even until she was back upstairs with her glass of water that Nesta’s words finally processed—

“They share a what together?”

***

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