#And the cycle continues until every POV is done

[localguy2]

As fantastic The Titanium Ninja is, Enter the Digiverse simply takes it for me

[ladythornofrivia]

song bird

Pair: Reiner x Reader

Warnings: Smut. Reiner being a flirtatious bad boy—popular with the ladies—cute fluff. Flirting. Flirtation at Reiner’s part. Fluff at first, angst and smut come later. Spice is nice. Mentions of serious topics and more. And serious flashbacks from season 1 in Reiner’s POV. MDNI, NSFW.

A/N: Other than Levi, my other favorite character is Reiner. He kinda grew on me since season 4 of Attack on Titan, and I’m not going to lie, he’s gotten hotter. So does Eren with long hair. But overall, every anime character is hot—Like Toji and Gojo. That’s all I’ve got to say on that. I just realized I got sidetrack. Aside from Levi and Eren, Reiner got hot. Really hot, and has great character development. Please enjoy this fanfic. :) I’m sorry that it’s long. Reader’s singing is inspired from me listening to Disney’s Sleeping Beauty. For Reiner fans, this one’s for you.

(Please report if anyone decides to steal/plagiarize my work and notify me. Thank you.)

Chapter One

Angel in the Gardens

Next Chapter

In the year of 854, things haven’t changed anything in Marley except Reiner. Although the change in Marley is a little more advance than the last time he resided before the mission. In his younger years, he was assure of himself, life is impossible with the life of prosperity with his family and relatives, and with his Armored Titan powers, anything is possible that could be reach, even his dreams beyond.

But now, with the retaliation and Eren’s endless cycle of hatred in his heart, Reiner wouldn’t and couldn’t blame him. As he came back, the rose-tainted windows shattered, and its colors wilted to stale and darkened. Everything he dreamt of, of being a hero, was his fault.

His mission with Zeke was no challenge; he has done this—entirely trained this since he was a young boy, born with an Eldian mother and a Marleyan father. Most of his childhood has brought up by his mother, his father was absent, even when encountering his father, he felt a struck of shame clutching and became a heavy heart. Reiner up skill his knowledge and agility in the military. He could recall the rain—drenched and heavy, carrying a loaded weapon in his arms as he ran to keep up the running course.

Realizing he has no childhood to conjure, only the days of the preparation for the upcoming years to hold his reputation. His days on being the candidate to inherit Armored Titan sounded like a victory. All the gatherers and onlookers at the parade, showering the Warriors with celebration. Reiner waved before the crowd, unknowingly what lies ahead. Everything was simple for him. Except now, it felt like a feverish dream, a good one, perhaps, but—maybe it wasn’t so. As soon as he got older, his young mind refined into a conclusion that inheriting a Titan power was nothing but an extreme burden.

For years he fought, he felt pain at first, but he has become immune, so immune he hasn’t realized he has two personalities—as a role of a soldier and a warrior.

What has become of Reiner, if not besides as a potential and a born-product for Marley’s representation of strength?

Was he even born to be as himself in the first place?

He had a moment, whether it’s up for him to still continue. Until now, he’s still breathing with a coursing veins with a thirteen-year curse.

What then if he hadn’t survived from Paradis? Power of Armored Titan will, no doubt, pass onto someone else has greater potential than Reiner. Yet, somehow, he’s still here, alive, in the flesh, not as a pure ghost. Though he maybe because his lively soul went numb.

Zeke has done it’s final job on the mission at Fort Slava, and led them to go home happily, reuniting with his family. He hasn’t said much to his mother other than a simple greeting. And when his relatives came and chat, when his uncle asked him regarding to Paradis, Reiner could describe anything but negative—the negativity lacks, but kept uttering. Some were shocked at Reiner’s statement of the potato girl. Each day has begun a turmoil in his mind. In sleepless nights, he tried to drown out the sounds of screams and cries and treachery. Each time he closes his eyes, white flashes overtaken, his memories of the greatest fighters and soldiers in Paradis—the Ackermans.

Then Eren’s toothy smile went into scorching rage.

He’d never forget the look on Eren’s face when Reiner unveiled his injured and regenerated.

The twist of nightmares felt real. Maybe because they are. Reiner couldn’t handle nightmares. People who thought of nightmares as useless dreams have a heart of steel. He hasn’t told a soul since he returned.

His mind snapped. And his heart thumped.

There’s one thing Reiner wouldn’t erase.

You.

He remembered you. He could still hear the sound of your voice calling to him, singing to him, lull him to sleep each time he came by and conversed with you. With rising daylight and glowing moonlight, he yearned to stay by your side forever.

Did he have to leave you for good? He couldn’t bear a hurtful look on your face, and the battle between Paradis and Marley couldn’t contain countless emotions running through him. Reiner was a coward, not knowing what to say to you. Or perhaps he’s afraid because he knows what your reaction and words are going to be. He soon to be longing for your touch, your voice. Your voice resonated him, as if he’s lost into a trance, lost his goal and objective and drowned into your arms and a song adorned upon your smiling face.

Then he tried to hum the tune, but couldn’t replicate it; he wasn’t a good singer. Hearing your laughter after him attempting to tune your voice, he find himself laughing soon after.

Realizing you’re not here, Reiner’s tear drops fell.

He wished to see you again. But how will he? If he attempts to be a deserter, it’s a final sentence for him.

He wouldn’t care.

Deep down, he’d rather stay with you, run away with you, from Eldians and Marleyans and live in another deserted island to start anew. No more playing soldier or a servant to his homeland.

His tears drowned in pillow sheets as his somber eyes replaced his vision with darkness and listless dreams.

Anything would be better than life’s silence in Marley.

~~~

~Year 850~

Fierce concentration due to training has been difficult for a young Warrior. Reiner, along with his companions, Bertholdt and Annie, came into Paradis for one thing. The Founding Titan. With the possession of the Founding Titan, it could end the lives of their enemies in Paradis for good. War hasn’t been kind to them since the day they took their first breath as their sworn oath. They took the mission without question; they—three Warriors—must contribute to their land, Marley.

For the greater good, they all said.

And hoped—prayed, even.

Reiner had countless doubts in his mind, despite his chosen status as a Warrior. Until Bertholdt told him that there are other things need to be occupied. Their infiltration was a success on their part, but seeing thousands—possibly hundred thousands of civilians in Paradis were at their swift end. Many mourned and fought. Others, fought against their livelihood, whether they want to fight or struggle.

He could hear their screams—their agonies, hate and cries every night since the first time he and his friends came. Everything was in shambles, and the crowd grew wilder with food supplies and good shelter during difficult hours. Adults starved themselves to feed their children with good consumable bread, sometimes with a bit of cheese and dairy to drain while others kept the food and space to themselves—all cramped with melancholic and upsetting atmosphere. Shortcomings went by when the meat supplies are strictly limited, and the law abide the rule to eliminate several folks after their failed years of attempting to crop and grow rations in the stubborn and dry field. Whether rain or shine, nothing prevail. They all kept trying until they found themselves exhausted and drowning in further to despair and anger.

This wasn’t the life people wanted. They wanted a lifelong prosperity and their properties to be in order. Even if it means to be locked away in a 60 meter wall from Titans.

Marley’s guidance to the future Warriors must be advanced and clever if it means for the predecessors to amplify the example of becoming a greater threat that contributes to annihilate the history’s nightmares. A spark of evolution, an ignited ideals and source of persuasion of the Marley lands to set the world rock to the core.

Paradis, on the other hand, hadn’t set the world alight. Paradis was as quiet as a tomb—untouched.

Once.

It was once pristine and silent, surrounded by trees and animals and mountains and quiet lakes.

A newly world from theirs—Reiner’s, Annie’s and Bertholdt’s.

A newly world to which they must merge as one of them.

~~~

Wearing a uniform and staying motionless under a torrid weather was a torture.

Commander Shadis kept an eye to the new coming trainees—104th Training Corps. With wide eyes fatigued and a bald head is enough to scare others. Not Reiner, though. Gladly, he doesn’t need to do the introductions. So does Annie and Bertholdt. The grim look in their eyes says it all.

The only Reiner is amused of is when the girl was eating a hot potato in her hand. Though at the end of the day, she was punished to run for hours until evening. Supper between trainees was another thing Reiner had to attend like the rest. Though his attention wasn’t on him; but his heart pounded when a boy with teal eyes and brown hair mentioned of the Titans that attacked and destroyed Shiganshina. A boy named Eren Yeager described their appearances. It was vague, but, Reiner knew what Eren meant. Maintaining his reaction, Reiner kept sipping his drink in stilled and calm pace, watching everyone being so oddly fascinated with Eren’s story until the rivalry with another boy, decided to jump in and argue. They somewhat reminded Reiner of his chaotic niece, Gabi, along with her friends, Falco and Udo and Zofia.

Like Gabi, Jean and Eren are a bunch of rowdy brats, fighting for power, and their perspectives are vastly opposites. One wants to be in a Military Police Brigade and the other wants to face the Titans alone, as if Eren’s destined to destroy every last one of the gigantic creatures.

As soon as Reiner finished his drink, he went up for a goodnight’s sleep. A soft yelp came below him. His golden eyes looked down and saw a young girl collapsed on the floor.

Abashed, Reiner held his hand outward as his height crouched down to the girl’s level.

“Sorry, little lady,” Reiner said with a smirk. “I didn’t watch where I’m going, but I didn’t mean to hurt a pretty lady like yourself.” He sent a wink at her direction.

“Th-that’s no problem,” she said, blushing, unable to return the gaze. She got up and went beside her friends, who are giggling at Reiner’s charm. One friend slapped her hand at the blushing girl’s back shoulder.

He smirked as he watched them afar until completely out of sight with a fold on his arms. Until a heavy hand fell onto Reiner’s shoulder blade.

“Remember what we came here for,” Bertholdt reminded, then moved past Reiner.

Annie hasn’t looked at Reiner’s direction, focusing in her own world.

And that Reiner’s mind recollected regarding to the real reason and obtained a lifelong achievement to an acknowledgement not only for himself but the safety of his family.

Marley.

In the land of Marley, Reiner must always remember two things: knowing one’s place, and the line of betrayal and trust must never to be cross.

~~~

Eren had the most difficult time with the gear strapped to his trousers. Shadis kept yelling at him, while the trainees snickered at his attempts to pass the test. He fell down clumsily again. Stuck like glue. Reiner, on the other hand, thought he has given enough lesson for Eren to pass with flying colors. Needless to say, today wasn’t going well in his favor.

He shouldn’t worried about Eren’s intentions, right? If he fails, he wouldn’t have an insignificance of him discovering their secret. Seeing Eren’s determination and fury against the Titans would mean one thing—revenge against who’s the main responsibility of Shiganshina’s Fall. A dead end. Reiner’s ability to shift had him on edge. Bertholdt noticed this, but said nothing; comforting and reminding Reiner in public, or even an air of whisper will cause suspicion from the outsiders of Marley.

“Wagner, give him the belt,” Shadis commanded.

“Y-yes!” Wagner complied.

By the end, Shadis concluded that Eren’s gear belt is broken. And the trainees were shocked at Eren’s ability to balance while his gear was broken and uncooperative that led him to failure in the first place. Eren went from failure to success. He’s going to defeat the Titans. Mikasa was relieved for Eren, and Armin believed in Eren. Reiner was stunned.

Eren’s revenge will proceed.

~~~

In most days, the trainees went onto the next step: using the Maneuver gear. Though this one dark day, they trained under the rain, carrying loaded bags while everyone, even Reiner, overheard Shadis shouting, lecturing over Armin’s slow pace. Reiner went over Armin’s side and slung Armin’s bag over Reiner’s shoulder. Albeit Armin retrieved it back and ran farther.

The people in training, his newfound friends, called Reiner the big brother—helpful and kind to everyone. But he wasn’t a big brother when it comes to girls’ side. He’s just as charming when he’s helping them unloading heavy items. And even encourage them during the one-on-one fight. Every girl had their hair covered their flustered eyes and smile. Each wink and touch he gave sent them flinging with squeals. Some boys were jealous because the girls they had a crush on were focused on Reiner.

Though Reiner had benefits of gaining admiration; to keep under and away from suspicions.

During supper, Eren and Jean argued again. Reiner grew tired of it. So he quickly eat his meal before bedtime. But the people before him took long to exit—filled with chatter about anything that’s unrelated to him.

Looking for another exit, he went at the right door, but cold darkness greeted him. The long night has caressed him with soft wind as he stepped out. Moonlight shone above the heavy pine wood trees. Exhaling, he watched the others saying goodnight to each other. The smoke-scent wafted through his nostrils, as he spotted the flames flickering.

Their life is different, after all. Using candles and fire and torches is an obvious, clear sign that island of Paradis is way far behind from the rest of the outside world. Hence the walls they built and buried themselves in for security and comfort from the hungry eyes and teeth from gigantic creatures.

In resolute state, Reiner marched onward onto the clear path, while pebbles crushed beneath his steps, ready to repose for tomorrow’s another course on defense.

But the noise shot nearby at his left direction. He stopped and inspected the crowded scenery. Only a few left, but all face at the opposite direction. A chance for Reiner to sneak into the forest. But with the Maneuver gear, his doom will come sooner than later. Though he entered in the forest, but not too far deep in.

Through the gusted wind, a melody entered.

Reiner was sure he wasn’t dreaming, he went in a little further, shoving the tree branches aside. A soothing melody came once more. His eyes fluttered, then shut. He took the song with him like the air he breathes. His legs numbed as he swayed.

Who’s voice was that? Reiner thought. Am I…dreaming?

“REINER!”

Behind him, the violent rustling from bushes became louder.

“What the hell are you doing there? The titans, remember? Without a defense weapon, you’d be dead!” Bertholdt lectured.

“I just thought…”

Bertholdt’s head tilted to the side. “Thought..?”

“Nothing, I thought I heard a deer coming by,” he lied.

“Everyone’s sleeping at this hour. We shouldn’t be waste anymore time than this.”

As they progressed into the clearing area, the grounds were completely empty.

“What’s up with you today?” Bertholdt scolded.

“Nothing,” Reiner replied. “Nothing at all. I’m just…bored. I don’t want to stand outside.”

Bertholdt sighed, hands behind his head. “Just don’t get carried away with the girls, alright? If you get too close to one of them, you’ll soon forget you-know-what. We’re here for one thing. And one thing only. It’s for the sake of—”

Reiner nudged Bertholdt with his elbow roughly. “Don’t say it, you idiot! People are still here! They could be hiding for all we know!”

They soon stopped at their mid-walk, found out that the boys were sneaking out from their cabins, based on their mood and direction they came from. Reiner greeted the boys goodnight before rushing into their cabins before taking a slight jog.

“Sorry, you’re not in a right mind,” Bertholdt remarked. “That’s why I’m here as your reminder. If you’re here alone, you’re doomed. And Annie won’t help you the way I did.”

Reiner’s brow twitched. “Why don’t you say that sentence to her face and see what happens?”

Bertholdt’s cool demeanor diminished. “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that,” he said with his hands flailing. “Annie won’t remind you like I do. She does things in her own way—does her own kicking and whatnot.”

Reiner face forward, entering the cabins. “If you say so.”

Then he hopped inside the bed after he had taken off his shoes. In a loud groan, he said to himself, “Another day, another struggle.”

“You can do this,” Bertholdt said before blowing out the candle light and tucked himself in the sheets, already snoring and had his leg twitched.

His heart beat pumped each time he breathed aloud into the darkness. Thus, he appeased himself as his eyes fallen and his body motionless, his loud heart became softer to hear.

The sky was dark, and heard nothing but a song echoed in his dreams.

~~~

The one-on-one fight was no problem. Reiner found himself defenseless to Eren. He can fool Eren as a big and slow fighter, but when it comes to Mikasa, the role of being big and slow became real as it can be. He found himself flying and landed on top of Eren’s body.

The rest was a blur. A fight between Annie versus Mikasa. Both with great skills and their cold eyes turned against each other. This the world that Reiner is acquainted with.

~~~

The boys were crowded once they had their break from their training while Reiner and Bertholdt remain restful under the shade by the massive tree. Boys didn’t talk anything other than girls. But as soon as they mentioned girls, Reiner couldn’t bring himself to stay still as Bertholdt eventually gave up and accompanied Reiner to others.

“So what’s this about girls?” Reiner uttered.

“What’s happening?” Bertholdt’s awkwardness came through.

The boys exchanged glances with each other for a second. “There’s this girl, she’s really beautiful.”

“Her height’s too petite,” another boy said.

“And really pretty,” the third boy said.

“And gentle,” another boy commented.

“Who was it?”

“Christa Lenz,” the first boy answered. “She reminded me of a princess for some reason.”

The third boy cackled. “That’s too much of a stretch! I’d say she reminded me of a goddess to give us blessing.”

“If she were a goddess, she wouldn’t even you a look and give you a blessing without a second thought,” the second boy said.

“Hey, I’m not that hideous! It’s just the uniform that makes me feel sweaty.”

“From the sun, I hope.”

“Then you might as well join the people wanted to work in the fields instead.”

And soon fell into a laughter.

“Where is she?” Reiner asked in firm tone.

The boys all gawked at him now.

“She’s at the training grounds with Mikasa,” the first boy said.“Why?”

Reiner turned to see Bertholdt having a look at him in the eye with a silent caution.

“No reason,” Reiner replied, shrugging. “We just want to join in on the fun. We’ve been training hard for the last couple of days—my legs are getting all sore.”

“I agree,” the first boy said. “I wonder when the graduation will be. No one knows until we’re notified, right?” Then laid his hand on Reiner’s shoulder. “See you later.”

“Where are you going?” Bertholdt asked, mortified.

“To the food supplies inside Shadis’s building,” one of the boys answered.

“But we’re not allowed to be there,” the second boy scolded. “We’ll be hanged or shot if we go there. Or run laps until we’re starving.”

“Relax,” the first boy slung his arm over the second boy’s shoulder. “We’re just going to see if the potato girl is there.”

“I wonder if she’s going to run laps again,” the third boy said.

“Or not eat anything for tonight again,” the second boy added.

“Shadis really knows how to humiliate someone in front of the crowd,” the third boy said, snickering. “Remember the last time she ‘farted’?”

“Ah, who cares? As long as we have entertain, nothing else matters,” the first boy replied with a smug.

Three of the boys disappeared from Reiner and Bertholdt’s sight.

“You’re seriously not going, are you?” Beetholdt lectured.

“I’m not going to the food supplies,” Reiner replied.

In that moment, Bertholdt’s eyes went grim. The boys’s howling cackle echoed behind them. “I wasn’t talking about the food supplies.”

~~~

Down at the steepest hillside, the birds flocked near at a radiant sunset hung low between the clouds.

“Are you even listening to me, Reiner?” Bertholdt said. “If you fail, we—”

“I know, I know,” Reiner dismissed. “A little break won’t hurt.”

“I never said anything about a break. I hope you understand what you’re getting yourself into.”

“Yes, Mother,” Reiner remarked. He looked at Bertholdt over his shoulder.

Bertholdt sighed. “You’re a Warrior, playing as a soldier. Your heart belongs to Marley. Nowhere else.”

“Keep it down,” Reiner warned. “We’re almost there at the training grounds! We’re about to see them soon enough.”

Unimpressed, Bertholdt said, “It’s only Mikasa and Christa.”

Reiner’s lips curved. “Exactly.”

Bertholdt scratched his head. “You like Mikasa, too?”

Reiner shuddered back. “There’s no way I like Mikasa that way. Not in a million years. If anything, I’m glad she likes Eren more. I wouldn’t even let her near to anywhere near me or my bed.”

Bertholdt’s hand slammed against his face. “You—uh!” He slapped his face again. “You never change. Though you aren’t slacking from your mission at the start, so I suppose you need a break.”

Reiner’s head snapped with his ears perked up and his eyes twinkled. “Really?”

His friend’s shoulders sagged. “Do what you want as long as it doesn’t hurt the mission.”

“Speaking of mission, where’s Annie?”

“She should be with the others. But if not, I wouldn’t be surprised of her having some alone time. She sticks with us for so long she might be tired of looking at the same faces.”

His shoulders shrugged. “Guess so,” Reiner said.

Bertholdt screamed.

“What, is there a bug on you or SOMETHING?!”

Both boys jumped and fell altogether at the sight of glaring Annie.

“We’re here on this island, and you boys are surprisingly well-guarded,” Annie stated with her arms crossed. “Interesting progress. Is that how you boys trained nowadays?”

“We haven’t seen you,” Bertholdt said, clearing his throat. “For a while now. His face is smeared with blush once he hoisted himself. “Hi, Annie.”

Reiner smacked himself in the face. Of course he wouldn’t erase the fact that Bertholdt likes her.

Without giving a second glance, Annie walked ahead, approaching downward at the training grounds.

“Was there a reason you want to be at the training grounds?”

Bertholdt scratched his cheek. “Well, that’s—”

“If you’re here for training, we could use an extra hand,” Reiner answered.

Scoffing, Annie’s hair flipped over to the side. “What are you saying? You’ve been training long and hard since when you were a child.”

“She has a point,” Bertholdt supported.

“Maybe, but it doesn’t mean we’re slacking off. We’re here, training as them. We just need more time for more preparation. I’d be frightened if we keep ourselves down. We’d be dead in the ditch. As much as I hate to say this, but, one of these days we’re going to betray them someday. If someone finds out our true intentions, I’d rather be…be…”

“Be?” she said, her eyes unblinking.

Waiting.

“Brave,” the blond said. “Rather than be shameful.”

All of them stayed quiet.

“I agree,” Bertholdt said. “We have to be brave. We all have to, if it comes to that.” He patted his hand over Reiner’s back. “Don’t stress yourself. We’ll deal with it if we have to.”

Reiner dipped his head as an acknowledgment in return.

“It’s settled then,” Annie said in quiet determination.

Soon they met up with Mikasa, who was helping with Christa with defense mechanism with wooden weapons—all kinds. So far it has been going accordingly. But Eren was beaten badly, so badly Armin stitched Eren up, watching them from the sidelines.

“It hurts,” Eren whined.

“You should probably learn a thing or two from Mikasa’s skill,” Armin suggested with a faint, encouraged smile. “At any rate, you should start. It’s better to be beaten up than to be disarm by the Titans.”

“He’s right, you know,” Reiner intruded.

“Reiner,” Eren grinned, stretching from ear to ear.

“Don’t mean to pry, but, you’ve beaten down, only this time it’s Mikasa, and not the maneuver. Still, I don’t get what’s the point of fighting against people.”

“Beats me,” Eren responded. “Besides, it’s better to have knowledge than nothing.”

Then the boys overheard Mikasa’s harsh, but soft tone.

“Wrong,” she said, watching Christa, who was out of breath, ready to fall. “Your hands and arms need to be in a correct form when performing an attack. And your legs and feet need to be balanced—don’t step on a wrong foot.”

Reiner’s brows furrowed, eyes squinting.

Eren and Armin leaned forward, studying Reiner closely. “Something the matter, Reiner?” Eren spoke.

“She’s too harsh,” Reiner said. “Not everyone can be like Mikasa.”

Armin gulped. “True, but…”

“Was she always like this?”

“To who?”

“Everyone.”

“She’s always been like this, even before the Shinganshina’s fall. Why?”

Reiner noticed Armin gave him watchful eyes—curious, no doubt, but watchful.

“No reason,” he said to Armin. “She threw me across the field, remember?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me of that,” Eren intruded.

He went to Christa once she’s dismissed by Mikasa. Reiner knelt down before her, and offered his hand for her to grip. She’s indeed beautiful, no doubt. Petite height as he got closer to her, her watching him with frightful expression.

So gentle and fragile. Too perfect for the unjust world.

“Are you okay?” he questioned.

“I’m…” she cleared her throat. “I’m okay. I wasn’t seriously hurt. Mikasa did what she had to.”

Reiner chuckled. “That’s quite alright. Here, I’ll help you.”

Before Christa could touch Reiner’s hand, another hand showed up, splitting the concentrated mood. Both gazed at Ymir, a tall girl with brown hair with freckles, adorned with a scowl.

“I can take Christa from here, if you don’t mind,” she seethed, and carried Christa in her arms, fading into the sunset’s light.

“Wow,” is all Eren said.

~~~

He hasn’t seen Christa since midday. He supposed that Ymir has taken a certain liking to her. If Reiner crossed the line with temptation, things will ugly with Ymir. She had no doubt to report him if she discovers of his Titan form. With that, he decided not to pursue for Christa’s reciprocation.

Often so, his mind changes whenever there’s love and affection. But with Christa, he felt enamored, like the walls had broken down on him. Shaking it off, he cast his feelings aside.

After that, they went back to their cabins, but just before long, he heard the melody in the wind again. Suddenly, he had forgotten about Christa and the girls he flirted.

There it is again. The melody arises. The voice carried again into the wind and whispered in his ears.

Without consciousness, he followed the sound into the woods once more.

He never once heard sounded so unearthly and beautiful. The song felt real—resonated and clutched him in the heart.

When he finally reached into the forest’s center, and there she was singing, lying underneath the green grass, facing away from the moonlight, surrounded by fresh oblong leaflets and forget-me-nots, wearing her white nightgown reached up to her feet and her white puffed sleeves adorned her flawless skin. Her long manes splayed against the ground.

Reiner stopped himself. He couldn’t see her face. One wrong move, she’ll stop singing. He was no fool. Yet he was; he has no weapon with him.

Should I tell her? Should I not and stay here and watch?

As he was about elevate his foot, the twig crunched. You stopped singing, exhaled a soft gasp, promptly rose forward with her back turned.

“Who’s there?” you demanded.

Crisp leaves rustling as the cool air embedded onto your skin.

He heard your voice, saying, “Don’t come any closer.”

Anyone who would see you in this state will get in trouble. You’re defenseless, broke a curfew, and alone, no less. You needed a bit of guidance to help you for self-protection. Though he had closer inspection on you; you held a pocket knife.

“It’s not safe here,” he said aloud. “Head back to the cabins.”

“I hate it there,” you said. “I have to forget the militia life, even just for a moment.” You successfully hid behind the thick tree without relying on navigating your footsteps.

Reiner sauntered in careful pace. “Trust me, anywhere is safer than these woods. Titans lurk these parts every night.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“There’s nothing wrong with help,” he said, stepping closer to a thick tree she concealed herself with.

“You don’t have to show your face to me,” he said. “Come out, and I’ll help you.”

His ears caught your gentle sighs.

Surrendered, you walked backwards and shortly felt his hands rest atop your shoulders.

“You can trust me,” he said, ironically.

Pausing, Reiner felt you shivering under his touch. Reiner pulled his jacket out and placed it above your head.

Trust me, he said.

Underneath the jacket, he saw the shy glint your eyes. Although he’s joyous, his shadow nearly covered up your entire face.

“Don’t worry, I’m here,” he whispered aloud.

Both of you and Reiner giggled in relief.

A deep groan sounded through the trees, and there, the titan appeared. Reiner took your hand and ran as fast as he could, making way towards the cabins. The titan chased them, and your panic rises. Reiner appeased you as he retraced his steps to which direction he entered from. With the trees swayed violently and the birds flew, they knew they’re in deep trouble.

It took them long enough to reach the exit, and the scouts were alerted at the Titan’s heavy stomps. From there, the Titan has been annihilated, Reiner had his arms around you the whole time. When Commander Shadis saw what’s occurring, Reiner knew you and him in deep trouble.

Shadis spared no time to scold Reiner and you.

“What the hell are you doing in the forest? Didn’t I say that you are prohibited to stepped over into the woods?! Not only you left yourselves defenseless, but you also chose to be a Titan meal!”

Reiner’s neck slightly bowed. “We apologize, sir.”

“Apologies are unacceptable. For one week, you two will be in the stable duty for your disobedience and your incompetent performance! Until then, you’ll have to train harder and faster. I expect you won’t make the same mistake again!”

“Understood, sir,” Reiner complied as you softly said, “I understand.”

Even your head is tucked, Commander Shadis looked at you as an insufferable insect. Perhaps this is what calls a duty, or a certain care in order for you to be prepared for the events like this to make sure you don’t fail. Though it didn’t stop there.

“Go back to your cabins and get up early. You two will be doing duty as a soldier. But at night, you better damn well know how to handle the stables. Dismissed!”

~~~

“I’m sorry I acted stupid. I’ll make sure it won’t happen again,” you said in a fainted tone.

Reiner watched you in sadness. “Don’t be. A mistake can be fixed.”

He watched you halting your tracks and give him back his jacket. “Thank you.”

He chuckled, his golden eyes are shut. “No problem. If you need any help, you come to me.”

“I will,” you responded with bliss. As you took the first step on the wooden staircase leading up to your assigned cabin, Reiner grabbed your wrist and watched you turned around, but only your manes shielded your entire visage.

“Goodnight,” he said. And left, leaving you wondering.

~~~

Everything was perfectly usual in broad daylight, but everyone knew what occurred with Reiner. Everyone asked Reiner of the details, but he delivered none, saying that he wanted to stroll because he was bored. For Bertholdt and Annie, their reactions had made things difficult. Reiner has to keep up with a good image, otherwise, it’ll be stained. Then he thought about you, wondering if anyone asked.

Reiner wanted to see you again. Thankfully, Shadis both punished you and him. After the training and the exam sessions, Reiner paid you a visit in the cabins, but instead the girls he randomly once flirted were there.

“Reiner,” the girls were calling out to him, reaching down the steps to meet him.

“I hope you’re doing okay. That titan is unbelievably stupid,” the first girl said.

“Who are you looking for?” another girl asked.

“Have you seen Annie?” he said, lying.

“Annie isn’t here,” the third girl said. “Why? You need something from her?”

Reiner shook his head. “Suddenly I forgot what to say to her.”

“We’ll relay a message to her, if you want,” fourth girl insisted.

He settled a dismissal wave. “No need. I can say it to her myself.”

“We’re entirely familiar with Annie, but she looked scary,” the first girl commented.

Though Reiner ignored her careless remark and said his goodbye before he left to search for you.

The heat in his chest felt tighter as he goes farther to meet you. He felt unsure for a moment until the melody came.

His heart danced with relief as he followed the sound of your voice from the grounds to the stables. He went inside first, then as the melody grew louder, he went at the back of the stables, and behind the fence, Reiner saw you admiring the flowers nearby under the midday light as your lips tugged into a smile beneath a long cloak of hair. As you stood up, your eyes met his; your humming stopped. In a moment of abate, Reiner watched you. The cool breeze unveiled your face, still standing far apart. Reiner gripped his hand on the white fence as the sheepish look in your eyes weren’t there, replaced with a spark of confidence and familiarity, filled with spry and beauty basked under the afternoon sun. Like an angel basked in radiant sun.

Little did he know, Reiner found himself smitten in the hands of an Eldian.

Taglist: @colored-tr-panels @galactict3a @slay0368

[prouvaireafterdark]

I personally don't think season 3 will or should be Lestat writing his own book. First of all, because of the abuse, I sincerely think any Lestat POV also needs another party present to call him out and not just let the audience assume his side is the truth, otherwise it will seem like the show is implicitly taking the abuser's side of the story (especially after how it framed Daniel's role in digging through Louis's story). Either he will show up to the penthouse and continue the "interview" framing or he will tell his story to Louis so both can be there to hash out what happened between them or something of that sort.

A straight up Lestat POV where he gets to paint himself as the victim would be pretty gross after what we've seen him do honestly and honestly why would the audience take anything he has to say seriously?

Okay I'm gonna be really honest here, unless Louis and Lestat's reunion has already happened and/or he's in a coma in the basement, I have no idea how people expect him to crash the interview at this point. Like it just does not make sense to me that he would just magically appear like that.

Honestly, I would much prefer that Lestat skips the memoir part and becomes a famous rockstar after reading Louis' interview and asks Louis to meet him with his song lyrics/media exposure so he can tell Louis his story himself before the San Francisco concert because that means we get maximum Louis. If Daniel is there to call him out on his bullshit, all the better, but I do want the story from Lestat's lips because the comedy of his narration is just too good to pass up. I've waited 15 years to hear Lestat describe himself with his own clown mouth and I hope season 3 doesn't disappoint.

Also, I just want to mention this because I feel like when people talk about Lestat there's a tendency to think about Lestat discussing his trauma as him painting himself as the victim and it really grates on me because two things can be true at once. Like, Lestat isn't the victim in his relationships with Louis and Claudia, obviously, but he absolutely was a victim. He was horrifically abused and neglected by his family his entire life growing up and was abandoned by every person he ever loved, even his own mother after he saved her life by making her a vampire bc she never wanted to be his mom (or a mom at all) in the first place. He is profoundly fucked up because of these traumatic events and they have a direct relationship to why he was so abusive to Louis and Claudia. Like he's probably got every trauma-induced personality disorder in the DSM-5 and literally cannot regulate his emotions or make himself stop being terrible until Louis hits his hard factory reset button and gives him an intervention by making him rot in the dump for a while so he's forced to think about what he's done.

Does that excuse any of his horrific behavior? No.

Does that mean he shouldn't have to atone for his bad decisions and the pain he's inflicted on other people? No.

Does that mean we should take every word he says as gospel and cast suspicion on Louis and Claudia's narratives? No.

But that doesn't mean every word out of his mouth is a lie either, and honestly, it's not like Lestat ever says "actually, every bad thing Louis and Claudia said I did was a lie because they're liars and I was a perfect father and husband and they tried to kill me for no reason." He fully admits that Claudia was right to kill him and that it's the kind of thing he would have done himself.

And like, in order for there to be a cycle of abuse, one has to first be abused. That's just how it works. And I don't really get why people are so set on erasing Lestat's traumatic history or viewing it as an either/or situation where only one of them is allowed to have been a victim of abuse and that if Lestat is allowed to talk about his abuse in season 3 he's by definition excusing his actions and challenging Louis' narrative.

I feel like part of the point of Anne Rice's work is that these vampires are, all of them, extremely monstrous AND deeply traumatized. They are both victims AND victimizers. It's what makes them so compelling and nuanced. I don't understand why some people want Lestat to be a cartoon villain with no redeeming qualities or path to redemption, and I also don't know why people seem to think that a season 3 from Lestat's perspective can only mean that the audience will not be asked to question or interrogate his perspective the way they've been asked to with Louis and Claudia in season 1.

Like, after everything they made Lestat do in season 1, if you're genuinely worrying that the writers are going to say "none of Louis or Claudia's trauma happened at all and actually Lestat was a perfect, sad angel the whole time who was unjustly wronged by Louis and Claudia and this is something you, the audience, are meant to uncritically believe because Lestat bat his eyelashes while he said it," I literally don't know what to say. It sounds ridiculous because it is.

There's just no way they're doing that and I think everyone should take a breath and stop stressing over it.

[gyahyahyahayhahayahyahyahyahyaha]

So there was two parts to this one

watchign it from the pov of or I guess one could say that iw as just simply that woman,., an so like Theres this like show opening with this woman dancing in this like park area, and then breakdancing next to this bus loading up fulla ppl. She'd/I'd be doing all sorts of acrobatics and flips and swinging around on nearby lamp posts and slingshotting between them because Id be building up so much momentum from swinging around an all that. Eventually we'd all board the bus, start driving out and then she'd drive the bus after a point in the song for the opening and it would always like. Cut to this pov like the skyrim death cam following along as the bus would tumble and roll and slide its way down a mountain. Or like glaciers.whenever this started happening, it was framed likea comedy show with lots of sfx and like crowd cheering or booing sfx. Specifically the onesi  remember was like this audience of children cheering n clapping sfx accompanied by like a "correct" sfx when the bus stopped moving and landed upright like as if nothing happened, signifiying that every9one on board as well as the bus itself was just fine, and then gasping or booing sfx + an "incorrect buzzer" sfx, whenever the bus took some nasty hits or flipped in aparticularly violent way tha would have normally, definitely killed at least SOMEONE on board. But it never did. And it kept happening. oh yeah i was wearing like a plain pink turtleneck sweater with ab lack skirt and black leggings and some like some dark coloured boots of some kind… had a headband too. And likje two really big flower barrettes on each side of the headband… was wearing brown gloves. Not sure what kind. I can say for certain they werent fingerless. Maybe they were driving gloves. From the beginnin of the shows opening, From the dancing, then the breakdancing and other acrobatic shit in front of the bus, and then to the driving of the bus until it cut to the bus being on topa cliff face or a slope that lead to the quickest path down the mountain/glacier, it was all just. Was done in slight variations each time. then the music stops and the sfx starts as it starts, crashing, flipping, rolling, tumbling and sliding violently or slowly on its way down. And every time it would land upright atht he very bottom and the cheering and clapping sfx would play every time. Eveyoen would walk out and it'd start again. And again and again. Getting quicker and quicker in the process. However This whole processs was changing everyone on board.

It was making all of us evolve into creatures that would make this whole process go by faster? or smth lol, And so for the next like millennia or hwoever long, we kept repeating this process until we all turned into like actual whales. Like as if whales were the most efficient animal to be for this process to continue as efficiently and quickly as possible. The bus was gone by that point and it would quickly loop a few times as whales until I remember hitting this large lunar crescent shaped recess in the mountain that formed from the bus crashing and falling into this particular area so many times over such a long time period. And a large body of water had formed, connecting to the ocean or soim ereally big sea. The water was dark. like had a sludge like colour. not so sure abou thte actual consistency of the water itself tho. And it was full of tiny and neatly cubed ice less than a centimeter in size, and some other mysterious clear solid substance… the first dream ended when I landed in the pool and was like kinda sick of this cycle, and during thist ime I apparently still had a human shaped arm and hand. Which I then stuck deep into the centre of this deep dark lunar crescent shaped body of water forming at the base of the mountain and as I did, I  screamed. I felt hundreds of thousands or perhaps millions of years go by in an instant of me and the other, now at this point, whales, going thru this cycle of tumbling and rolling down this mountain/glacier go by. And as I felt it happening the body of water was like reacting almost like I could feel a consistent, thin layer of almost powdery solid particles suspended a set distance abovce the waters surface and where I drove my hand into the water, a whirlpool of sorts was forming around my hand. But instead of spiraling or anything or forming currents, it was like being absorbed by the passage of time. Or by my hand. Or both. It was like the whirlpool was forming at the bottom of my hand and the water was vibrating so quickly and strongly that it wasli ke evaporating or smth. I couldf eel like a vacuum where my hand was. But it wasn’t suckign anything up. The water was just kinda like dissapearing into where my hand was. And Holy shitt hat scream I made. it was a haunting way to wake up. Felt this weird sensation in my right arm for a while after waking up too…

[delu-jean]

Hey! For your event can I have giyuu or rengoku for 45? That’s one of my favorite songs 💕. (female reader)

𝐏𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐎𝐟 𝐕𝐢𝐞𝐰

Giyuu x (fem!/reader) -> Fluff -> 1.2k 

Lyrical Prompt: -> “I want to love me, the way that you love me. Oh, from all of my pretty, and all of my ugly too, I love it when I see me from your point of view,” POV (Ariana Grande)

(Regarding Lyrics): If bolded and slanted (eg: you), they’re lyrics being said. If not (eg: you), then they’re just lyrics/text! 

Notes: 

-> I wanted to do Rengoku originally, but Giyuu was running though my minddd~

-> Thank you for requesting for the event! If you would like to request, please press the hyper link for the “100 Followers Event,” and read the rules! Thanks, and enjoy!! ^^ 

You stared at Giyuu as he glanced out the window. Such a calm, and reserved young man. One of which you adored. He was just so perfect in every aspect. From his stance, the way he spoke, the way his eyes lit, to the way his hands were placed. He truly was a piece of art, one of the more rarer pieces that was showcased to you (luckily). And not only was his presence a gift, but his affection also. 

Giyuu has always handled you with care. Treating you the utmost best he could, even with his duties, and own life in the way. For him, how could he not? You were an extraordinary person. One of which he never dreamed of meeting until you appeared...right in front of him. Speaking of your meeting, it was one he would never forget. 

It's like you got superpowers

Turn my minutes into hours 

At that moment, everything seemed to have stood still. It truly felt like a spell was cast as the word “hello” had escaped from your lips. He was awe stricken. From the way your hand had waved, to the way your hair had swayed. All of you had captivated him, and for once, did time stop. Making that small amount of time feel like an eternity. One of which he hoped would extend, and hopefully, become something more. 

Fortunately for him, that’s exactly what happened. As the more time passed, the more he had fallen for you. Not only did the beauty in your appearance hook him, but so did the compassion in your heart. 

The kindness, selflessness, and passion it held for others, was something astonishing. Something he hadn’t seen in a while, especially in the field of demon slaying. Even when you took the lives of demons, just like Tanjirou, you also felt sympathetic for those beings. Yet instead of wallowing about their tragedy, you instead showed them the better of it. Some listened, and others couldn’t because the pain was too much to bear. Regardless, you did your best to show your intention through your actions. 

Executing each and everyone of them, with grace at the slash of your blade. Not only did you do your best to understand them, but you also did your best to understand others. Though it was a challenge for some people, it felt natural for you to explore more about Giyuu. Not only that, but he felt at ease when you opened closed doors which he had shut. Finding the knob to each individually, ready to repair the damage done. 

 Made of glass the way you see through me

He felt so transparent when the both of you talked. As if he was an opened book especially reserved for you. Though you thought your talent was nothing special, he found it to be an impressive accomplishment. He hadn’t opened up to anyone after the late passing of Sabitou, and his sister. Even so, there he was...with you. Telling you the littlest details which he hadn’t known he knew, and yet, it seemed that you knew more about him then he knew himself. 

So much that you could have elaborated his thoughts, memories, stories, and over all, read him to the bare of his soul. Understanding his feelings, along with his own mindset. Seeing as to why he acted a certain way, and the hurt that also tagged with the path of his choices. Though you hadn’t known him much, it seemed like you already knew him in and out. Which made him think: 

‘You know me better than I do’ and that he couldn’t seem to keep nothing from you.

In truth, Giyuu was scared. Scared that after revealing who he was, that something was bound to happen. Not to him, but to you. It seemed to be a cycle which he was stuck in. After letting someone in, they would make their way out...but in the utmost cruel, and gruesome of ways. Even so, when he attempted to let you go, you’d always come back. Re-entering his life as you wanted to know him more, and so did he want to know you. 

It made your interactions special, heartwarming, and even heart wrenching at times. All of those small, big, and silly moments which the both of you shared, brought him one step closer to you, and the gracious person you were. 

Over the years you had spent with Giyuu, you took note of who he was as a person. Not only that, but who he saw you were as an individual. You saw his efforts that came to play. Ones which were ever so considerate. Though he was timid and quiet at first, the more time you spent with him, not only did he open his mind, but his heart as well. 

I wanna love me (ooh) 

The way that you love me (ooh) 

Opening his arms to envelope you in the warmest of hugs, showing you how much he appreciated your talks, and showering you in the utmost affection. He truly did love you, and held you to the highest of his priority. Although there were times where you had doubted yourself, had disliked parts of you, or just weren’t having the best time with who you were, his actions would remind you of the self-worth you had. Not only that, but the love he also had. Love that was handmade, and tailored just for you. 

Ooh, for all of my pretty

And all of my ugly too

He adored you no matter what. From the days where your confidence had reached the roof, to the moments where it hadn’t so much, he made sure to show his appreciation. Cheering you up, or cheering you on, though not in the most loudest way, it was done the way he sought best. Knowing that it would lighten you up no matter what. He loved seeing a smile painted on your face. A structure with the softest, and pinkest lips, along with a majestic grin. One of which he had oozed over, and would smile with himself. 

Regarding arguments with you, no matter who came first after a fight, you both would make it up to each other. For him, personally, he would hold you in the moment. Letting you know that he was both sorry, and there for you. No matter what would had happened, and no matter what was yet to come. For all he knew, losing you was an option left in your hands, and knowing that, he did all he could to cling onto you. Knowing that you would do the same since that’s just who you were. 

A beautiful lady who would stand beside him, no matter thick or thin. You were there for him, ready to love him just as much as he adored you. Just one of the few things he admired about you. 

Ooh, 'cause nobody ever loved me like you do

It was true, nobody had ever loved you the way Giyuu had. Though your love wasn’t the most vocal, it was definitely the most precious. His perspective of you was one he held very dear to himself. He made it clear, and would continuously do so. 

All of that was seen from his actions alone. If his actions were that expressive, just imagine what his thoughts had held. Yes you were able to read him, but only Giyuu truly knew the way he thought...along with his affection for you. Knowing that sometimes made you think: 

‘I'd love to see me from your point of view.’

[eternalsimp]

Cursed Fears (pt 2)

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Smut

Word Count: 3703

Warnings: NSFW 18+, Aged up Megumi, mentions of violence, character death, swearing, use of female pronouns and anatomy, angst, slight praise kink, oral sex (f. receiving) Minors DNI.

Author Note: This is a sequel but it can be read as a stand-alone. pt 1 is up on my blog and pt 3 will be posted soon.

Megumi’s POV

Everything was dark and the smell of blood was overwhelming. I couldn’t tell where I was exactly, I knew I was in the domain of a special grade but I was sure I had gone home to y/n. Nobara, Yuji, and I had exorcised a second-grade curse and had called it a night. So where did this domain come from? How did I get here? I could swear I could hear thunder crack every now and then, but I can’t even remember if there was a storm when I was here with Yuji and Nobara. Where was Gojo when I needed him? I stumbled through the darkness blindly before I was met with a sight that made my heart drop.

Sukuna sat lazily on his throne, his red eyes trained on me in a predatory glare, sharp nails tapping impatiently on his temple. “It's about time you showed up, I thought I was going to have my fun without you. Now that you’re here, we can continue.” Sukuna’s mouth pulled into a sinister grin as I stared at the limp figure at the foot of his throne.

“Y/n…” her name came out as barely a whisper, my throat felt like it was closing up. She was at home studying for her statistics class, I know she was. I shook my head violently before pressing the heels of my hands to my eyes. This isn’t real.

“What’s wrong little sorcerer? Not feeling so tough anymore are you? You were so confident you could take me on earlier, so come on, take her back. Until you do I may have to play with her a little bit more, show her that she was never safe from me.” Sukuna reached down and pulled her unconscious body up into his lap. He held her jaw with one hand and turned her face so I could see. I wanted to scream at him not to touch her, or to hurt me instead, but nothing came out. Every part of my body was frozen in place at the sight of her tortured body. Sukuna could see me struggling in his domain and smirked down at me. He slowly dragged his mouth up her throat and to the shell of her ear. “Time to wake up princess, our guest is here.” Sukuna squeezed her throat at the same time he nipped her ear and her eyes flew open to immediately fall on me.

“No, please let her go.” The words finally came but I still couldn’t move. She looked so scared, the person I love most is in danger and I couldn’t do anything about it. I forced myself forward a single step but it felt like I was sinking into the ground. Why can’t I move? “I’ll do anything you want, but please don’t hurt her.”

“I told you what I wanted, I told you to come and get her. Show me just how strong you are.” Sukuna taunted. With a firm grip on my girlfriend's jaw and his other hand traveling down her body, Sukuna was in complete control. I know I can’t use cursed energy or shikigami here or I would risk her becoming collateral damage, but I couldn’t stand still and do nothing.

“‘Gumi, help me.” Her voice was shaking, her entire body trembling. I wanted nothing more than to whisk her away to safety. Her eyes squeezed shut as Sukunas mouth attacked her neck and left dark bruises in its wake.

“Time’s running out kid, I’m starting to get bored.” Sukuna’s free hand began to snake over her legs, dragging his razor-sharp nails over the soft skin there, leaving angry red scratches behind. Tears began to fall freely from her eyes and I tried to force myself forward again to no avail. Whimpers and cries for help begin to fall from her lips faster, and god I feel like I’m in hell. All I can do is watch as she cries out in fear, heart cracking at every sound she makes. Finally, she says something that makes me feel like my heart has been ripped out of my chest

“You did this to me, this is your fault.” My body felt numb at the sound of her broken words. All I can do is shake my head and beg, beg Sukuna for mercy, and beg her for forgiveness.

“Baby it’ll be okay, you’ll be okay. I’m so sorry.”

“You said you would protect me, why did you do this to me?”

“I’m sorry, I’m gonna get you out of here. Please believe me, my love.” I was on my knees before the king of curses now. So close I could pick up on her perfume that smells sickly sweet of roses, but the smell I adore so much was tainted with something else now.

Sukuna clicked his tongue and shook his head. “You know better than to make promises you can’t keep, right?” My whole body was shaking with fear and rage at the curse, but all I could do was bargain.

“Please, I swear I will do anything, just let her go.” I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her, pleading to just see her leave here alive. Sukuna’s nails dug deeper into her throat, drawing blood as it trickled down her neck and chest in small streams.

“I think I’d rather punish you and the brat for trapping me in this vessel. You get to watch as I kill her, and then I’ll switch out with him so he can see what he’s done.” Sukuna leaned down to face me. “This is what happens when self-righteous sorcerers need to learn their place, so don’t blame me for what happens next.”

Fear shot through my entire body at those words. I couldn’t help but scream loudly as Sukuna jerked her head and a loud, sickening crack filled my ears.

I shot straight up in bed as a crack of thunder rumbled through the apartment. My eyes were unfocused as I dragged myself towards the bathroom and a wave of nausea washed over me. I barely made it to the toilet before I was vomiting into it. My knees burned from where they hit the tile but all I can think about was the sound of her whimpers and begs for help ringing in my ears. I was vaguely aware of the shirt sticking to me with sweat as I tried to control my erratic breathing. Thunder cracked again, sounding eerily like the way her neck snapped in my nightmare and I was retching again.

The cycle continued for what felt like hours until I was left coughing and dry heaving. As the panic started to ebb away I noticed the presence of my girlfriend on the floor behind me, running her hands soothingly over my back, and lightly pressing her thumbs into my spine. She had her knees on either side of my waist and was resting her head between my shoulder blades. I reached up to flush the toilet before gently squeezing her knee to let her know I was okay. She wordlessly pulled my sweaty shirt over my head to let the cool air hit my back before lifting herself off of the floor and out of the bathroom.

I shifted my body so I could press my forehead against the hard plastic of the bathtub. After a couple minutes, she handed me a bottle of water and pressed a cold, damp cloth to the back of my neck. “I’m sorry I woke you up,” voice raspy from coughing and throwing up. This wasn’t the first time I had woken her with my nightmares, and I doubt it would be the last. She reclaims her spot on the floor behind me and continues rubbing my back.

“Don’t be sorry, I prefer to be woken up by you going to the bathroom than you throwing up in the bed anyway.” I can’t help but laugh at her teasing and we could both feel the unease begin to fade.

“Yeah, that's a good point. You’re too good to me, you know that?” I moved so that I was leaning back against her chest and she wrapped her arms around my shoulders protectively.

“Nope, I refuse to accept that statement because we are the perfect amount of goodness to each other.” I tilted my head back to rest it on her shoulder before pressing a quick kiss to her neck. I couldn’t help but wonder how I was lucky enough for Nobara to introduce the two of us. It was in the small, intimate moments like these that I knew I would happily go to my grave protecting her.

Reader’s POV

“Okay you know the drill,” you said to him as you held out your hands expectantly. He smiled as he placed both his hands in yours, palm up. You pressed one of his hands to your chest and the other to his so he could feel both of your heartbeats under his fingertips. The first time you did this he scoffed at how cheesy it was, but over the two years of living together, it became common practice for when he was trying to calm down after a nightmare. You didn’t like to press him about the horrors that plagued his dreams, knowing how reserved he was with his emotions, so you found your own ways to comfort him.

“See, we’re both okay. Do you wanna get up to go lay back down or do you need a second?” He shook his head and pulled himself up to sit in front of you again.

“No, I’m okay, but can we do the other thing too?” he asked sheepishly. He turned pleading eyes towards you, and how could you refuse him when he asked so nicely.

“Of course, whatever you need. You or me?”

He took a shuddering breath before whispering “you” so softly you almost didn’t hear it. Your shoulders slumped as that one word told you everything you needed to know. The other practice that became a common occurrence after his chronic nightmares was kissing the other person's phantom injuries. More often than not it was him kissing you, as you were usually the object of his nightmares, like tonight. He liked being able to physically see and feel that the wounds inflicted on you were in fact not real. This nighttime routine often led to some heavy makeout sessions, which then led to very soft and intimate sex.

“Okay baby,” You stand up and move to sit on the side of the bed while he brushes his teeth quickly to get rid of the gross taste in his mouth. While you wait, you find yourself tugging at the bottom of your shorts self-consciously as you shiver in anticipation. After a moment your boyfriend waltzed out of the bathroom and rested his hands on either side of your waist. He bent his head to capture your lips in a slow kiss. His tongue swipes at your bottom lip, silently asking permission to deepen the kiss and you happily oblige him. Your mouths move in a small fight for dominance but a firm hand on your thigh has him easily winning. Your hands trailed up to rest on his shoulders as he took your bottom lip between his teeth and bit down gently.

You gasp softly into his mouth and he brings one hand up to rest at the nape of your neck as he cradles your head protectively. He draws his lips down the side of your jaw, paying special attention to the spot behind your ear that never fails to have you melting into his hands. You tilt your head to give him better access to your throat, allowing him to deliver individual kisses to the spots where you likely had been hurt.

In a swift, fluid motion, he is pulling your tank top off of you and trailing sloppy kisses down your chest and stomach. You lean back onto your elbows as he runs his hands over your thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You let out a shaky breath as he begins to kiss his way up the inside of your legs. “Just relax baby. I’m gonna take care of you.” He punctuated each word with a kiss or nip to the inside of your thighs, and you could feel the arousal pool at the pit of your stomach.

You forced yourself to make eye contact just in time to see a devious smirk grace his features. Before you could question it he is yanking down your shorts and blowing cool air onto your core. You yelp and instinctively try to snap your knees shut. He chuckles lowly to himself before tossing your shorts somewhere behind him. He brings his face back between your thighs to lick a long, hot stripe up your core. You gasp loudly and let your arms give out behind you. He reaches one hand up to where you are clawing at the sheets to intertwine your fingers together.

“My pretty baby is already so worked up and I’ve barely touched you. What a good girl.” He lowers himself back down to lap up the arousal dripping onto your legs before sucking your clit into his mouth. You arch into him and groan loudly which prompts him to hum triumphantly around the bundle of nerves. He moves his free hand down to expertly curl two fingers into you and starts pumping in and out at a steady pace. After a few pumps of his hand, he curls his fingers to find the spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

The combination of his mouth and fingers working you is dizzying and you can feel it pushing you closer to the edge of your climax. He could feel how close you were and began to move with more purpose, determined to make you cum more than once in the night. With the hand that isn’t intertwined with his, you reach down to tangle in his soft hair. “Wait, I- oh shit- I’m gonna cum.”

He removes the hand that was holding yours from you and brings his thumb down to rub circles into your sensitive clit. “Come on baby, I got you. You can cum for me.” He moves his mouth to rejoin his fingers at your slit to bring you closer to your high. A particularly hard press of his thumb has you crying out in pleasure and grinding desperately against his face. He removes his fingers from you and replaces them with his tongue to help you ride out your high. He greedily drinks up your release until you are weakly nudging him away.

“Do you want me to stop?” He looked up at you innocently, which was contradicting when you remembered the things he was doing mere seconds prior.

“No, I just want to feel more of you.” You could feel a hot blush creep up your body at the realization that he was still halfway clothed, while you laid completely naked in front of him. His brain seemed to process this at the same time because he was quickly ridding himself of his sweatpants and grey boxers.

His hard cock thumps softly against his toned stomach when he stood again and you were having a hard time not staring at the man in front of you. He wasn’t bulky, but the muscles that rippled underneath taut skin were nothing to sneeze at. He glanced up and caught your stare, and returned it with a cocky smirk. “See something you like?”

“I sure do,” you flashed an innocent smile as you sat up and palmed his erection. He gasped at your sudden boldness and leaned onto the bed for support. At this proximity, you were able to tug his earlobe between your teeth and bite down gently. “Please baby, I want you so bad.” Those words snap him back into action and he’s crashing his lips against yours again.

He moves you back up the bed and crawls over your body. He braces his forearms on either side of your head and experimentally grinds his hip against yours. You let out a soft “please” that comes out whinier than you intend. You lean your face up to give him a soft kiss before he reaches down to line himself up with you and slowly presses the tip inside. He shallowly thrusts to slowly work into you, mumbling praises against your skin as he moves deeper.

You can’t help but wince at the stretch his cock always brings you, which would border on outright painful if he didn’t feel so good. Your head falls back against the bed, clawing at his back to try to find something to ground yourself. He glances down to where he is buried deep inside you before pressing his forehead to yours. “I know sweetheart, it's almost there. You’re- fuck- doing so good for me,” he reassures as he presses a soothing kiss to your temple.

When he finally bottoms out he stills his hips to let you get comfortable and adjust to him. He takes this opportunity to pepper your face and chest in kisses and returns one of his hands to your neck where it cradles your head. You bring one of your hands to his hair to tug gently before rolling your hips against him, eliciting a breathy moan from him. “You can move baby, I’m okay.”

He nods and gives a couple of slower thrusts before setting a steady pace. He opted for slower deep strokes which made you feel every inch of him as he thrust into you. His thrusts have his cock brushing all the right spots inside you, and all you can do is gasp and moan for him while clinging to his shoulders. “Megumi, please,” you aren’t even sure what you were asking for. The pleasure has your head spinning and unable to make complete thoughts.

You can tell he is getting closer to his own climax because his thrusts are getting progressively faster and he is getting more vocal. “God, baby you’re taking me so well.” He hooks one of your legs around his waist and the new angle lets him hit your sweet spot with every roll of his hips. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you feel another climax approaching, and Megumi picks up his pace again.

“Is my pretty girl gonna cum for me again?” You bury your face into his shoulder and nod. He moves one of his hands to play with your clit to push you over the edge. You arch into him and let out a strangled moan as your orgasm washes over you. You’re sure you’re leaving deep scratches across his back as you grip him tighter. His hips stutter as you clench around him and he gives a few more sloppy thrusts before he’s cumming too with a loud groan. He unconsciously rocks into you lazily as you both come down from your highs.

“Are you okay baby?” He kisses your forehead and strokes your side to try and bring you back to reality. You nod again, not quite trusting your voice yet. He chuckles and slowly pulls out to not overstimulate you. You squirm at the uncomfortable stickiness between your legs but he’s already moving to the bathroom to grab stuff to clean you up.

When he comes back out he runs a warm cloth along the inside of your thighs and quickly over your center, which has you wincing at the sensitivity. When he's done he pulls out a pair of your pajama shorts and one of his loose shirts for you to wear. He helps you slip the clothes on and tugs his boxers back up before climbing back into bed with you.

You stand up to crack open the window next to the bed before laying with your back against his chest. The cool air from the rain seeps into the room and he mutters a “thank you” into your shoulder, surprised that you remember he runs hot for the rest of the night when he has a nightmare.

The clock on the bedside table shows that it's about 5:30 in the morning, so you estimate that he woke up roughly at 4. “Do you feel okay enough to go back to sleep?” You feel him shrug behind you and you scoot closer to him, pulling one of his arms over your waist to lace your fingers together.

“I don’t know. I should but…” you hear his voice trail off and nod in understanding. He always has a hard time falling back asleep on nights like these. He warned you about his chronic nightmares shortly before moving in together and confessed that he’s had them since he started high school at Jujustu Tech. However, you take small comfort in the knowledge that since living together they’ve gotten less frequent, and his reactions to them have become far less violent.

“Will you feel better if one of your shikigami sleeps in here? Just so you know that nothing will happen.” He considers it for a minute before tugging his hand out of yours, circling his other arm around your waist, and folding his hands to summon his divine dog. Its head pokes out of the shadows under the window. You pat the empty spot on the bed and it jumps up excitedly before laying down and letting you scratch behind its ears.

Megumi chuckles behind you and shakes his head. “You just wanted the dog on the bed didn’t you?” He reaches over to ruffle its soft fur as it dozes off.

“Checkmate,” you crane your head to place a kiss on his cheek before settling back against him. “Now will you please try to go back to sleep? I don’t want to nag you but realistically you can’t function on only two hours of sleep.”

“I’ll try but I can’t make any promises you know.” He tucks his chin on top of your head and relaxes around you. You hum in acknowledgment before slowly drifting back to sleep.

[impala1967dwinchester]

Dean Winchester: What's left behind

*Credit to gif owner*

Pairing: Dean W. x Reader

Pov: Deans

Warnings: Talking about past fights, including scars, Dean, Fluff, Dean!Fluff, laying in bed together, swearing, mentions of past smut, verging on implied smut, playfulness, Sassy reader.

Summary: Laying down with Y/n she starts to point out all my scars and tell her some stories I've not told anyone else.

Word Count: 2k

A/N: This is for band--psycho 1.5k followers Bingo Challenge. I'm so excited that I get to be a part of this writing bingo challenge.

Square- Scars

Masterlist

Taglist: @band--psycho @akshi8278 @deanswaywardgirl @hit-meup69

Y/n had just showered and was getting ready for bed. We'd already been together for so long that it had turned into a traditional thing for the two of us.

Every time that Y/n showered and we were going to be in bed I'd give Y/n a shirt of mine and she wears just that and a pair of panties. Seeing as we were just going to bed. There wasn't a single night that we didn't do that cycle.

Y/n would grab the remote to the TV, and I could turn our bedroom overhead light off, turning on the side table light instead. Y/n would climb under the sheets of our bed, grab a book and throw the remote in my general direction.

I'd climb under the sheets., and flick through the man channels that we have. Before landing on the same stupid cartoons that I wasn't able to watch as a child seeing as I was taking care of Sam.

After a few episodes of cartoons, Y/n would put her book down along with her reading glasses and cuddle up with me. Ask me what we were watching. "We're watching scooby-doo. I think it's actually an older version of the cartoon." I said this time around.

She snuggled closer and draped her uncovered leg over my pajama pant leg. The pajamas always make her laugh. The ones that have hotdogs printed them. My shirt grazing over my bare chest.

This is how we fell asleep. Snuggled close to each other, our arms wrapped around each other in the most intimate, protective sort of way. This night was different though.

Y/n started to trace my light scars that covered my body. The ones from being stabbed, or shot during a hunt. Or just the simple more domestic ones like the cuts I get while I shave my jaw.

"What are you doing, sweetheart?" I asked her, truly wondering what had gotten into Y/n.

"You know, we do the same thing every night. I have seen you shirtless many times. In many different situations, and I've never asked you were certain scars come from. Talking about the ones that came before I was in your life, baby." Y/n said still tracing scar lines.

“You want me to describe my scars?” I asked her. A little confused as to what Y/n was asking me. “Yes, you goofy! What do you think I was asking?” Y/n said rolling her eyes and smirking at me.

“Okay, I get that. Pick a scar and I’ll try to tell you the story of said scar.” I noted.

Y/n grazed her fingers over my shoulder, down my forearm, around the side of my stomach, and then she abruptly turned me to my side. Tracing her hand down the back of my spine. Then Y/n turned me back around on my back. Pointing at the scar that was on my stomach.

It was a long slender cut. It was about midway down my stomach right above my belly button. “This one, Deanie. Tell me the story of this one.” Y/n voiced.

I had to think for a moment. Going back recalling the memories and fights of old hunts. “Let’s see this is a scar from about six years ago. Sam, and I were on a hunt to kill a Ruagru. It was down in South Carolina. The town was on the smaller side.”  I stated. I took a breath in and then let it go, and continued talking.

“The drive was nice, and it was during the summer. So, the three layers of clothes and long flannels needed to come off. This time around Sam and I only had one layers clothes on. We went ahead and did the research for the hunt. The town was losing many kids. The kids in the morgue had they had absolutely no blood in their bodies. That was odd for the small town to deal with.”

Y/n tapped my shoulder, “Is this story a long one?” She asked giggling. “Patience my dear child!” I said starting to tickle her sides. “TELL the story, Dean!” Y/n shrieked. “Okay, okay I’ll tell you the story.” I spoke.

“Sam eventually found out where the ruagru was staying. He found out like the little hacker he is by duh hacking into the tariff lights and such and tracking them down that way. It was of course an old barn, down an old torn up road deep in the woods. Like really, but whatever right. So, we grabbed our shit from the back of baby and got to work. Now let me set the stage for this hunt.”

Y/n hummed in a response for me to continue.

“The barn was old like I have already said, the outside was painted red, but it was so old that most of the paint had come off already. The inside was much different, it was fixed up and made to be livable I would assume. Sam and I snuck in through an open space near the doors of said barn. Sam had a Molotov cocktail, and I had a weapon that looked fucking awesome.”

I said with excitement flowing through my words. Y/n raised her eyebrows and shook her head. Like I was child who had just said the stupidest thing ever, but she doesn’t want me to know.

“It was just a demon killing knife, I bet.” Y/n said rolling her eyes.

“Hey, hey now don’t ruin my story now.” I spoke. Hushing her and continuing on telling my story.

“So yes, a demon killing knife is was I had. I walked in first being the over protective brother that I am. Sam behind me and ready to throw his Molotov cocktail. I was ready for anything if there was more than just one monster. When we finally found the ruagru I guess I must have startled them because they turned around and were in my face within seconds. Within seconds after that they had picked me and thrown me all the way through a wall. The old sherds of woods grazing past my stomach.”

“OH, ahhh!” Y/n said being a smartass.

“Don't be a smartass Y/n. Let me finish the story you so gracefully wanted.” I spoke.

She shrugged and bumped my shoulder with hers. Letting me continue telling my story.

“I didn’t realize until long after Sam and I had killed the ruagru was killed that I was bleeding through my shirt. Sam was actually the one to realize that I was bleeding. I was so mad when that shirt got ruined by the time, we were able to clean our clothes the next time. I ended up throwing away the shirt.” I said with a sad tone behind my voice.

“What was on the shirt?” Y/n said a worried expression on my face.

“You know to think about it now, I think it was an ac/dc shirt, or maybe an old guns and roses shirt that I had found in a local thrift shop at one point long ago. To be honest with you I hadn’t really thought about that since that moment.” I said shrugging my shoulders.

“Can we do one more, before we go to bed?”  Y/n asked me nuzzling up closer in to my chest. I wrapped my arm around her and roughly brought her as close as we could possibly be to each other.

“Sure baby, choose away!” I said, a yawn ending my sentence.

She looked around and ended up landing on the cut just underneath my jawline. She outlined it and then said; “What about this one?” Giving Y/n a rather confused expression I made sure that was the one she wanted next. “Are you sure? This one doesn’t really have a great story behind it.” I spoke.

“Duh you goof I realized that, but still, I want the story for this one.... PRETTY PLEASE!” Y/n said screaming the last part. I looked over at her, with my eyebrows raised far up on my forehead. She giggled when she looked up at me, “I’m right here sweetheart. There’s no need to scream!” I whispered. “Whatever you say grandpa.” Y/n came back with.

This time my mouth was wide open my eyebrows still far up on my forehead. I rolled my eyes and closed my mouth. “I’m just going to forget that statement and start my story.” I said, “So, this little scar is actually from when I shaved for our first date.” I said getting thought in thoughts about our first date.

Y/n wore a beautiful short red dress, paired with a pair flats. Y/n pretty much had no make-up on and wore her hair naturally. I took her not to a bar, but an actually four stared restaurants, not that far from the bunker. That night ended very much at the front of Y/n’s bedroom door.

But I remember as I went to walk back to my room. I was pulled by my wrist into Y/n’s plump lips. Now I’m not going to say kissing Y/n didn’t make me feel like a teenager all over again but that’s pretty much what it felt like.

That night we went slow mostly because I knew in that moment when Y/n pulled me into her lips that I wanted to be with her forever. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. That only made everything else feel more heightened.

I went slow with her, learning the curves of her body that night. I just listened to her body, I wasn’t trying to show off, or make her remember me. That was something we could do later, but in that moment, I just want to feel her and be with her in every single way.

I was forcible pulled from my thoughts when Y/n jerked my arm rather hard. “What!”  I said a stream of worry flowing through my bones. “Nothing, don’t get you panties in a wade. I just was wondering if you were done telling that story?” Y/n asked with raised eyebrows

“Umm. To be honest with you. All I can remember from that night was how beautiful you looked, and how that night at your bedroom door that I wanted to spend that rest of my days with you. I knew right then that no matter what Chuck said or what Billy said that we were going to be together because I love you.” I said kissing her lips.

Just like every time I kiss her lips it reminds me that she isn’t going to leave. That we are together through anything that could possibly be chucked at us. It reminds me that I’ve got everything I need and it’s all in the room.

When we released each other lips, Y/n looked at me, with bruised lips and said; “I love you to y’know. I remember that day so vividly too. You were wearing your normal jeans and a nicer shirt; we went to a four-star restaurant, I think. I remember you dropping me off at my bedroom door. I so wanted to kiss you before I shut that door, but I couldn’t balls up. I guess that thought of this never happening was too overpowering because the moment I heard your shoes start to fade I opened the door and took the best leap of my life. I love you too Dean.” Y/n said.

Y/n kissed me again in the process ended up in my lap. “Y’know we always end up like this.” I stated as Y/n kissed down my neck. My hands falling down to hips. “This is going to end up with you being submissive, and taking me so well dear.” I spoke. Digging my nails into her hips. She bucked.

“Not too fast naughty boy. Treat your girl to a show first” Y/n said winking at me, before somehow getting out of grasp and running out of our room and down the hall. “Let’s play a quiet game of tag baby. Oh, and just to let y’know. You’re it Dean.” Y/n said running down the hall.

“Yeah, yeah. You better keep running little girl. Because once I catch you. You will be bombarded with kisses all over your body.” I yelled as I followed her around the bunker halls.

“He showed me his scars, and in return he let me pretend that I had none” - Madeline Miller, Circe.

Completed on: 04/07/2021

[shozaii]

An SO that’s used to getting all her touch starved needs from her little dog and is not comfortable at all asking other people. (She thinks that people will think of her too clingy or if they do hold her it’s only for obligation and so she lets go earlier so they’re “off the hook”)

(a/n): gahhh thank you sooo much for sending your request in!! i’m so glad i got to work on this once my finals were over. sorry it took soooo long, but i hope the wait was worth it!! enjoy!🥺❤❤

masterlist.

snuggles for the win!

pairings: todoroki x reader; kirishima x reader.

genre: fluff. (headcanons!)

extra notes: requested for todoroki and kirishima!

➠ as we all know, it is a headcanon - nearly a fact - that shouto would be really touch-starved, due to the lack of affection he got growing up. all he needs is headpats, hugs and kissies ;-; he gets this little fear that he might be annoying you if he ever does ask. then again, i don’t think he would ask. he just tends to keep the need to somewhere far, far away, fearing for the worst-case scenario.

➠ catch him finding out that you have a dog. i’ve mentioned it before but i have a feeling that he takes time to get closer to dogs, despite being the cat lover that he is. so cue him asking you loads of the most wholesome questions about your dog.

➠ i can think of a little scenario of how this turned out - he most probably noticed the fact that you tend to nuzzle your nose into your dog’s fur, holding him close. and whenever you talk to him you go only as far as to holding his hand. maybe some headpats here and there, but something just feels.....off. 

➠ it’s like you shy away from him every time he tries to hold your hand. maybe you do hug once in a while, but that too, is very rare. what’s interesting here is that both of you have the same feeling. not wanting to let go, wanting to stay just a little while longer. usually you’re the first one to release from his embrace, and he just stands there thinking, ‘did something happen?’ ‘was this not the right time?’ ‘have i made a mistake just by hugging her?’ thoughts go brr !!

➠ he even has pep talks with your dog, even though he knows he won’t be getting answers. poor baby skksjndkj

➠ his confrontations with you are pretty direct, even though his heart feels like it’s about to pop out of his chest. the first question he asks you is, “am i doing something wrong, y/n?”

➠ “s-something wrong? sho, why do you think so....?”

➠ “whenever i hug you, or hold you close. give you kisses. to be very frank, you seem much more comfortable with your dog. is it not supposed to be done between us? do you not feel comfortable with them? or me?”

➠ “shouto! oh my gosh, n-no! not at all! please don’t think that way. i just.....i don’t want you to think i’m clingy, or annoying. i love your hugs; a whole lot i do not regret them. but i’m just afraid i’m overdoing it....? hence me, ya know, giving them all to my dog.”

➠ “love. i don’t exactly think you know about this, but i am quite the touch-starved person myself. just thinking of snuggling up to you, showering you with all the kisses. me activating either side for your satisfaction,” he chuckled softly before looking back at you. “even hugs would do. and i would do anything to stay that way.”

➠ cupping your cheek with his hand, you felt yourself melt into his touch. the faint smell of roses began trailing to your sense of smell. right before you knew it, your arms wrapped around his figure, as he placed his other arm around your back, careful to not scare you with his grip. 

➠ before he knew it, the hold lasted for more than a minute. 

➠ baby boy right here does not care where he is. he is ready. to give you. hugs. anytime. anywhere. cause he just loveeees his cutie so much! how could he ever resist?🥺

➠ he doesn’t admit it, but his heart go hurt hurt when he knows that you don’t exactly want to be in his embrace. he’s the kind to overthink too - it could be something wrong that he had done. or maybe you were just not feeling it. but why were you not, though? so he brushes it off, tries more, feels very down, and then the cycle continues. not until he met your dog, though.

➠ let’s just say he gets this pang of jealousy shot through his heart. he probably found out about it in secret, because i believe kiri is one who respects your privacy a lot. but you might’ve left your door open by accident, so he accidentally peeked through (he promised).

➠ it’s just you and your lovable puppy (which, he had to admit, adored a whole lot too), and you two were cuddling. something he was supposed to be doing. the puppy then gleefully licking your face, as you booped its nose, pulling it closer against your chest. kirishima found it all cute and mushy. but oh my. his heart and mind were telling him so many different stories. 

➠ it’s unmanly of me to tell her stuff like ‘hey i’m jealous.’ i can’t do that!

➠ tells denki and sero about it, would lowkey ask bakugou for more advice. and it’s the same result - they would encourage (one would give an earful...) to actually go talk to you. you guys were a couple. it is important to let one know about the other’s feelings. 

➠ so after a few pep talks, reassuring, and a lot of manliness seeped into his bones, he finally decided it was wise of him to walk up to you, and your beloved dog, and ask you whether you have anything that you have hidden from him.

➠ ......not the answer he was expecting. 

➠ “you know you can talk to me. i- i don’t think i would’ve ever mentioned this to you since it would be pretty unmanly of me to dig deeper. but this has me boggled up for days and - are my hugs not to your liking? are my kisses not what you need? do you feel like i wouldn’t provide much....? anything....?”

➠ “no!! no, no, no. eiji,” you sighed shakily. “promise me you won’t get mad at me, alright?” the moment you said that, he nodded vigorously, his red bangs falling down his face. 

➠ “i just don’t want you to feel....annoyed? i’m quite the clingy person, eiji. i love hugs! it’s my go-to kind of affection. give it to me any day and it would even wipe the sadness of my face. but along comes my fear; being a little too attached, hence making you feel tired of me and my intentions. i’m sorry, love. i never knew it would end up this way,” you ended, your shoulders now hanging loose.

➠ as i mentioned earlier, it would never be a problem for him to give you affection anywhere. cue a big hug, where one hand lands on the back of your head, and the other around the back of your neck. pretty sure i could tell his heart was jumping with joy. because not only did he finally felt at ease, he knew exactly how to make you feel at home.

➠ “you never have to worry, sugar! i love hugs! and i definitely love giving them all to you. you could even give me a bone-crushing hug and i wouldn’t mind - go easy on me, i guess, heh. but let me tell you this; your affection is most definitely the best thing to receive on any time of the day.”

(a/n): aaaaand there we go! these are my pov’s on these adorable babies on touch-starved s/o’s. they would both be pretty chill about it, too! i also hope i stayed on topic too kjanksjnskdj !! 

[paper-n-ashes]

sparks and embers - chapter 3

Characters: Poe Dameron x Original Female Character, Kylo Ren x Original Female Character

Story Tags: Explicit (18+), Canon Compliant/Divergent (Set after TLJ), First Person POV, Love Triangle, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Porn with Plot, Hurt/Comfort, Kylo Ren hates Poe Dameron

Chapter 3 - The Return

Words: 4k

Chapter Tags/Warnings: medical descriptions and procedures, some sexual themes - mainly in the form of OC being thirsty AF

Read on AO3 or Start from the beginning

~

On the way back from the East village, filled with the Gossams, humans and other alien species who had similarly escaped to a simpler life, I couldn’t help but curse at myself for giving in so easily to the pleas of a good-looking stranger.

Aiding someone merely for their physical appearance? How horribly unprofessional.

The voice in the back of my mind was loud. And curiously judgemental.

It had been over a full day cycle since I’d departed the clinic, making Poe vow to remain within the confines of his bed until I had returned. I’d left him with enough food for two days of my travelling, hygiene supplies, a drip running slowly for some pain relief and range of tools for him to attempt getting BB-8 up and running, hoping he wouldn’t have any reason to struggle getting out of bed.

The thought of his still fragile femur bone breaking and splitting the artery I’d spent all my energy on mending was beyond frightening. I worried about him every minute I was awake, imagining any number of complications that would leave me a corpse to find when I arrived back.

Bleeding, clots, stroke, infection, sepsis.

It wasn’t easy to slip those thoughts from my mind in the lone starkness of the Raxus countryside. There wasn’t really anything to look at except grass and sky, nothing to distract me from the worst case scenarios.

I’d convinced some of my old patients to join my cause, promising them better medicine and equipment if I was only able to have a comm-tower to order everything I needed. It didn’t seem like lying. The comm-tower really was my only link to the rest of the galaxy, and I would have needed it fixed anyway. Only now, time seemed to be more of the essence.

After spending the night amongst the locals I had grown to be familiar with over the last few years, I’d begun the trek back with the knowledge at least one problem had been solved. Some promised spare parts, others were going to follow my path within the next day cycle to get my comm-link back online. I hadn’t divulged all the story, at least not the part about this repair job apparently being a determining factor in the fate of the galaxy.

I hadn’t pressed Poe about what that meant exactly. I was used to the Resistance and their soldiers having somewhat of a flair for the dramatic when it came to war, after healing many of their battle wounds in years past. I knew how fervently they believed in their cause - that they were the only thing standing between galaxy wide harmony and First Order dictatorship.

I understood their hope of peace in our lifetime, but I’d lost mine a long time ago. Good, bad, they were just two sides of a coin that would flip for eternity, desperately chasing power for their own reasons.

In truth, I didn’t particularly care. I just hoped to live my life somewhat free from the burden of picking a side.

*

Before unlocking the clinic door, my feet aching from hiking for 6 straight hours, I drew in a long breath with a silent prayer I wouldn’t be walking in to find a dead body. With a fluid motion I turned the handle and pushed the door open, my head popping in first around the entryway to where Poe’s hospital bed stood. He immediately heard the latch clicking and shot his head up to meet with my eyes.

“You’re back,” he smiled, as I noted how much colour had returned to his face during my absence.

He looked so much better.

For the first time, I found myself studying his face, my stare tracing from his strong angular jawline to his high cheekbones, the prominence of his nose, the whiskey colour of his large cheerful eyes, his tousled deep brown hair. Then I took in his wide grin, shapely pink lips curled upwards to show perfectly set white teeth.

Stars, he’s so handsome.

In the muddle of memories I’d conceived from the night of his crash I’d not recognised, at least not during the time I was struggling to keep him alive, how attractive he was. And now with his health a far better picture than the last time I’d seen him, it was all I could notice. My heart quivered through a beat as he beamed at me, soon realising his smile was more a reflection of the prospective good news I brought with my return, making it settle back into a normal rhythm.

“Hi,” I breathed, walking closer and setting my pack down at the foot of the hospital bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” he answered, “The smaller burns are almost gone, and my chest wound is closed, look!” He pulled up the grey hospital shirt I’d managed to change him into before I had to leave. This time when I saw the nakedness of his chest and abdomen I couldn’t help but stare at his softly defined muscles, all tensing during his movement. He was right, the hole below his rib now sealed, a newly-formed, pink scar in its place. The chest tube was still secured above it, now redundant.

“Gotta love bacta,” I hummed. “I can take that drain out now if you like.”

He looked at me incredulously. “You’ve just done a 30 hour round trip for me, not even sat down, and you want to dive head first into more treatment?”

“I... uh... I mean... I just wanted to help you feel better,” I stammered.

Poe shook his head, smirking. “It’s okay, I appreciate it. Really, I do. But I’m alright, the tube can wait. How about you rest for a second and tell me how the mission- I mean, trip, went?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Two days ago you were begging me to get going so I couldn’t waste any time, now you’re telling me I can take a load off?”

"Uh, yeah… Sorry about that,” he grimaced. “Having some time to think while you were gone... It made me realise everything you’d done and were doing for me - a stranger you had no reason to help." Poe took a long exhale before speaking again, his tone serious. "I was in a lot of pain, just woken up in a strange place. It’s still imperative to get a message back to the Resistance as soon as possible but... that’s not your burden to bear. I can't thank you enough for your help, but I'll try not to ask too much more of you.”

It seemed not only had his physical health improved, but logical thought and patience had returned.

I took my cue to sit on one of the opposite hospital beds, letting my feet dangle over the edge to kick my shoes off, feet pulsing with gratitude at their release. “There’s some villagers coming tomorrow,” I started. “They will hopefully have a new comm-tower up and running within the next couple of days. I told them about your droid too. There’s some spare parts in that bag.” I pointed my hand out to the satchel at Poe’s feet, glancing at the L shaped table beside his bed I’d set up. BB-8 was sitting on top of it, head and body still separated and now unbolted at separate points, wires haphazardly sticking out in different directions. Falling back into the mattress, I let out an exhausted sigh, relishing the feel of the squeaky mattress under my body.

“I really owe you. The Resistance owes you,” Poe praised after a few moments of silence, as I heard him begin to rummage through the satchel. I held back a frown, even when I knew he wouldn’t be able to catch sight of my face.

I didn’t do any of this for the Resistance.

It occurred to me then I wasn’t really sure why I’d done it at all. I had always been a sucker for those in poor predicaments, hence why I became a doctor in the first place. But the trek had nothing to do with treatment or medicine. It was purely at the behest of this pilot, who’s charming appearance in the dimmed orange light of the evening made my skin feel hot.

“So, how did a girl like you find herself in the middle of nowhere on the Outer Rim?” Poe questioned, fiddling with some of the parts.

I sat back up. “I’m not a girl. I’m 28. That’s a little too old to be called girl anymore.”

Poe chuckled, the sound of his laugh both warming and positively thrilling. “I apologise. How did a woman like you end up here?”

“I used to work on Coruscant, that’s where I started my medical training,” I explained, remembering the glittering planet I’d spent much of my young life on. “Then moved into the war relief efforts on medical frigates scattered throughout the galaxy. Treating wounded soldiers day in day out took its toll, having people constantly injured and almost dying for a war they didn’t start.” I glanced to Poe's expression, seeing a glow of understanding behind his eyes before I continued. “Plus, there were more than a few times I felt a little redundant. The medical droids they have kind of... made my treatment obsolete. I wanted to practice medicine in a place where adequate health care was rare or non-existent. I wanted to help those who were most desperate, who otherwise couldn’t afford it, those who would actually value the care of a live human doctor. So I picked a planet at random, and settled here."

The random part was an utter lie. No one had cared about Raxus since the Clone Wars, and the First Order wouldn’t make it their priority to conquer Outer Rim worlds for a while yet. It was a quiet, calm planet with countless refugees fleeing here to make peaceful new lives. They wouldn’t be concerned about old, rusty equipment, lower quality bacta or no medical droids. They would simply be happy at having a doctor within a day’s trek.

And no one would think of looking here for a Force user.

Poe studied me in quiet thought for a moment, taking in what I’d divulged. “Well, they're damn lucky, with how nicely you patched me up. You’d run circles around some of the doctors and medical droids at the Resistance base.” He grinned at me again, earnestly, another attempt to thank me for my work. I felt the pit of my stomach tense, and it wouldn’t retreat, the thought of his smile lingering in my mind even after he’d gone back to his tinkering.

It had to be because I’d been in isolation for so long, why I was reacting so strongly to the innocent smiles and compliments of a man I barely knew. I definitely wasn’t used to conversing with men so close in age to my own. Most of the local humans were older, married with children, and I rarely made conversation around any other topic than their illnesses.

“What... uh... Why were you flying over Raxus?” I asked awkwardly.

His eyebrows creased together as he looked back at me. “Raxus wasn’t my destination, but I... can’t tell you any more than that.”

“Oh…”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” he urged. “It’s just, you know, highly confidential.” He seemed apologetic, like he owed me more of an explanation.

I nodded, agreeing the less I knew about the Resistance and their missions the better. “Well, you’ll be able to get back to it in a couple of days,” I insisted, breaking the awkward silence that had lingered. “Some time and a little bit more bacta and you’ll be like new again.”

“Actually, speaking of that,” he started, an uneasy expression now settling in his features. “I was wondering when you were thinking of letting me get out of this bed.”

“Depends on the reason Poe. I’d recommend starting your formal rehab tomorrow at the absolute earliest, otherwise we can get you up and walking if you need to do something… uh… specific.” There was no hiding the waver in my voice.

He laughed, louder than he had before, the sound making it difficult for me not to blush. “Aren’t you a doctor? Why are you embarrassed for me to use the bathroom?”

“Hey!” I frowned. “I was trying to save you from being embarrassed.”

He shook his head, still chuckling. “I’m alright on that front for now. I was actually hoping to use your refresher. It’s been a few days…”

“Oh of course!” I’d cleaned him up as much as I could before I’d left, getting rid of his obliterated flight suit and helping change into the bland hospital outfit I reserved for overnighters, but even to myself the idea of a shower was enticing.

A thought flashed into my mind of steaming water hitting Poe’s sun darkened skin, trickling down his toned body as he lathered himself in soap suds.

Woah.

Okay.

That was new.

It had been such a long time since I’d felt the fire of blood rushing to the lower portion of my abdomen, insides clenching at the heat so suddenly ignited.

Poe was looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to continue. I internally shook away the incriminating thoughts before they could be conveyed on my face. “How about I get that chest tube out first? Then I can help you to the ‘fresher?”

He breathed out in relief. “That would be fantastic.”

I stepped lightly off the hospital bed, walking shoe-less over to my medical trolley to drag it back to Poe’s side. And immediately, without me asking, he sat up and began a haphazard attempt to pull off his shirt, left arm bandaged and stiff, right arm enveloped in the cast I’d made and evidently still painful to move.

In a wordless reply, I helped him pull the fabric over his head, confronted with the image of a half-naked, strikingly handsome man in front of me.

I couldn’t believe I hadn’t recognised any of his raw allure when he’d been almost stripped completely bare by my own hands on the night of his crash. It seemed bizarre I wouldn’t have noted the strong, broadness of his shoulders, his armoured chest littered deliciously with dark hair, carved abdominal muscles tensed in waiting.

I swallowed hard, hoping Poe wouldn’t register my shaking hands as I prepared the tube removal kit. Snipping the sutures around the plastic, unsteady gloved fingers pulled out the tube as smoothly as I could manage, Poe flinching slightly at the sensation. He continued to look away as I injected some bacta gel into the wound, sealing it closed with a few new sutures and placing a waterproof dressing over the site.

“All done,” I settled. “Like nothing happened at all.”

Poe looked back to me and smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. It was obvious he remained troubled by the memories of his crash, and understandably so. I’d seen the same look in many other military personnel, the attempt to put on a brave face when images of fire, blood and terror pierced their thoughts. I desperately wanted to take his mind to a brighter place. “So, ready to try walking?”

“Absolutely! Lead the way doc.”

Ugh. Eventually I would have to correct him on that.

I stepped back from the side of the bed, arms stretched in readiness for when he inevitably stumbled. “Please take it slowly. Your muscles aren’t going to be pleased with what you’re doing after over two days of bed rest.”

“Sure thing,” Poe scoffed.

Typical male.

Initially he seemed to take my direction, moving his legs slowly from under the blanket, pain now registering on his features. He swivelled himself sluggishly to let his legs fall over the side of the mattress, breathing slightly heavier to push through the discomfort.

He was leaning more on his left side, right arm hovering over his thigh. Tentatively, he slipped his left foot onto the floor and shifted his weight onto it, pushing his hand into the mattress to help himself up.

Soon he was standing in front of me for the first time since we’d met, and even amongst all the burns, bruises, dressings and bandages, he looked impossibly strong, toned muscles wrapping his form.

He noticed the timid smile form on my lips.

“Hey don’t start laughing at me. I don’t think I could handle my ego being bruised along with the rest of me.”

“Oh... I wasn’t-,” I stumbled, quietly relieved he’d misread the reason behind my smirk.

He held his hand up in protest, grinning. “I was kidding. You’re welcome to laugh at the adult sized toddler learning to walk again.”  

It was difficult not to snicker at his words. “Come on,” I encouraged. “Just think of how nice that hot water will feel.”

He sighed in agreement and moved, taking a hesitant step onto the previously fractured leg. I swiftly froze with anxiety, even when the logical side of my brain told me both the break and the artery would have stabilised exponentially by now. But the emotional side, the part that remembered the rush of blood that had exploded from the wound site, nagged incessantly at me, insisting that this was a very bad idea.

My eyes were glued to Poe’s figure as he shifted his weight deliberately, muscles tensing at the trigger of pain he was likely feeling, before he made a delicate hop to move back onto his left leg.

Even that one haggard step appeared to take a lot out of him, but he seemed determined, eyebrows already wrinkled in concentration.  He continued the process a few times over, my arms still poised in waiting for the foreseeable stumble as I walked backwards. I couldn’t help but hold my breath as he limped, following me out of the clinic room into the hallway that lead to my office, the ‘fresher, and my living quarters all the way at the end.

His steps became faster, more confident, when all of a sudden, his balance wavered.

Reacting quickly, I stepped forward to catch him, arms circling under his own and around his torso, hands now gripping the muscles on his back as he crashed into me. I would have stayed there for a moment, my fingertips registering the warmth radiating off his skin, until I became fully aware where his face had fallen into.

I felt Poe’s heated exhale through the cotton of my white shirt after his face had collided into my chest, directly between my breasts. The twinge in my lower abdomen occurred again, breath hitching in my throat.

He scrambled to push himself back into a standing position, my arms releasing from around him, his hands clamping around my biceps as he fought to reclaim his steadiness again.

“I am so sorry!” he blurted, his face dangerously close to mine, only a small touch of redness visible under his caramel skinned cheeks. I knew my blushing would be much more pronounced.

“It’s okay,” I breathed. “I was waiting for that to happen.”

His eyes widened.

“Not that!” I yelped. “I meant you falling! I was waiting for you to fall!”

Poe’s face illuminated into a beaming grin. “Sure you did.”

I frowned in protest, but couldn’t stop the chuckle escaping. I shifted to face the same way as him, an arm curling around his torso, angling my body under his own. “How about I help you the rest of the way?”

His hand gripped onto my shoulder, the hardened squeeze making the tensing inside me ripple even faster.

Focus Alex.

Poe let me support him as he limped down the hallway, and I desperately tried to distance myself from the thoughts that swirled in my mind at being connected so closely.

Eventually we made it into the ‘fresher, a white and grey tiled room with the large, frameless shower enclosure taking up most of the space, the only privacy a plastic curtain that could be pulled across the entire spans of the room. I’d designed it with the idea there would be enough space to assist overnighter patient’s in washing themselves, since I didn’t have a nurse to do it for me. Yet, it still gave me the ability to provide some discretion by stepping out past the other side of the curtain, ready to swoop in if I was needed.

And that’s what I’d planned for Poe, knowing he was hardly the type of patient that was going to let me do anything for him if he could help it. Guiding him to the backless shower chair, I released him to his own devices and quickly pulled the curtain across. It was more for my own concealment at this point, needing to take a moment to settle myself down, the memory of his hold still lingering on my skin.

“I’ll be right here if you need any help okay? Everything you need will be on the shelf under the shower start button.”

“Thanks Alex,” he answered, his voice huffing out as I could hear he’d already started to shimmy down his pants.

Stop imagining it Alex. Stop thinking about him naked, a metre away, behind that thin curtain.

The sound of water rushing into the tile floor pulled me back into some impression of reality. I busied myself with organising my own hygienic supplies in the mirrored cupboard, desperately trying to think of anything other than the man hidden from my view, steam swirling around his figure, water dribbling down his bare skin. From behind the screen I heard a pleasant moan leave him, obviously enjoying the hot water battering into his aching muscles for the first time in days.

And with that sound I felt a twinge between my legs, heat swelling and rippling outwards through my body.

Stars, that was... hot.

It felt so unprofessional, to be tantalized by the thought of a man, a patient, in the middle of such a basic act of human hygiene. But I couldn’t deny he was more attractive than any patient I’d ever had in my life, and the thought of ripping open the curtain so I could join him was suddenly the most tempting thing in the galaxy.

I locked my hands onto the basin that stood in front of me, trying not to be overwhelmed by the sound of Poe lathering soap between his hands, then sliding over an unseen portion of his body.

It was then I started to pace, hoping the repetitive movement would stop me ruminating over the indecent notions my mind was conjuring. Minutes ticked by too slowly as I waited for him to finish his routine, begging for the irresistible pull of craving to be released from me.

“Hey Alex?” Poe suddenly called.

“What's wrong?” I squeaked, cursing at myself for sounding so startled.

“I actually need some help.”

Oh maker, why do you do this to me?

I swallowed hard. “Y-yeah. Sure. Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he began, voice sounding a little forced. “It’s just... with my left arm still bandaged, and my right arm still in the cast, I can’t wash my hair. I know it’s a little strange, but could you help me out?”

My heart ricocheted inside my rib cage, frolicking at the thought of seeing him soaked in water, fingers raking through his dampened hair.

Come on Alex, try to keep at least one shred of professionalism.

“Sure,” I agreed, a more competent tone saturating my voice as I withheld my internal fluttering. “Make yourself… uh… decent, and I’ll open the curtain.”

I heard Poe’s movement as he reached for one of the towels hanging on the rail nearby and wrapped it around his lower body. The flowing water soon came to a stop, the sudden silence making me feel uneasy.

“Ready.”

I placed myself in front of the curtain between us, his stature only barely visible through the clouded screen. My jaw was locked as I took a deep breath through my nose, meditating in thought, frantically clawing at a sense of calm.

Then I reached towards the plastic, clenched my hand around it, and pulled.

~

Next Chapter

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[ruewrites]

Hi!!!!! I absolutely loved all of we're blooming together and everything else in the series, do you think we could maybe get some of the story from solomon's POV?

AO3

WBT

Ship: Solomon/Asmo

Word Count: 3122

Warning: None

A/N: Hello Hello! Thank you so much for requesting this! It was wonderful coming back to this AU! I hope you enjoy this little perspective from Solomon's point of view. I'm always down to revisit WBT if you guys ever want to see anything else!

Solomon couldn't exactly remember when he'd started having feelings for his best friend. Probably around highschool? Late middle school? Whatever the case, Solomon had known he liked him, but he had some problems.

One. All of Asmo's partners were beautiful and charismatic and usually had some sort of high standing. It wasn't that Solomon was not popular so to speak but he wasn't the captain of the football team or the cheerleading team, he didn't have lots of ins to big fancy parties, and he wasn't extremely social. He noticed things about them, things he believed he could never measure up to, but he was always there for Asmo no matter what happened, advising him after fights and helping him through breakups. Not that he minded, he knew Asmo would do the same for him given the chance. It's how they functioned.

Two. His family. They knew he was attracted to women, but as far as he knew they had no clue that he also had feelings for men. Ash, his old caretaker, was the only one who Solomon knew about his feelings towards men. They’d raised him, they knew. It wasn't that he thought they'd react poorly, he just didn't know how they'd react. He saw them so rarely anyways that he figured it just didn't matter. They could figure it out after he moved out. Not to mention, finding other men to ask out was hard, especially when he kept thinking of Asmo. Women were easier for him to date. He often didn't have to question if they were attracted to him or if they wanted to date him.

Three. Asmo was his first childhood friend. His best friend.

He’d been the first friend Solomon had ever had, and Solomon had never been this close to anyone. Their relationship was special, something sacred.

So much was on the line.

He stopped dating all together after they left for college. He knew he liked Asmo too much at this point. It would be unfair to anyone else he did try to date.

So when Asmo broke up with his last ex, Solomon got an idea.

He gave him a little bit of time wanting to make sure that Asmo was okay after the messy breakup that had followed. Solomon had a lot of disdain for his last boyfriend. The man had been a monster. Solomon had had Asmo at his apartment sobbing over the latest argument they'd had. How this man had picked at the smallest insecurity until it burst open allowing blood to flow. Lucifer had been the one to convince Asmo to break up with him, something Solomon couldn't have been more relieved for.

He couldn't stand watching Asmo be stuck in that cycle anymore.

He waited a while before even constructing his first letter.

"You know, you could just tell him," Simeon's voice came as Solomon paced back and forth trying to think of the perfect words, "I think Asmodeus would be delighted to go out with you."

"If only it could be that easy."

"It literally could be that easy."

Solomon fell back onto the couch, mulling over if there was anything else he could or should say before telling Simeon he was done with this letter. He and Asmo had history together. If Asmo didn't want this, it could potentially put strain on their relationship.

"I need to test the waters first to see if he'd even be receptive to someone asking him out."

"And you can't just ask him if he wants to go see a movie with you on the weekend?" Simeon chuckled. Solomon was about to retort, but his friend continued, "Although, from what I've seen of Asmodeus, I think he'll like this."

One letter turned to two.

Two to three.

Three to four.

And so on.

Each time Solomon swore up and down it would be the last one and that he would just tell him. But then Asmo started to get more cuddly, more bold, with him. Each time Solomon lost his nerve.

But seeing how happy the letters made him didn't make him regret a thing.

Then Asmo invited him out, as his model. He couldn't say no. How could he say no? He thought he'd be prepared to see Asmo, but how he couldn't have been more wrong. Solomon's mouth went dry as soon as he opened the door. Staring too long would be impolite, but not taking in every inch of him would have been a crime. Every touch, every caress made Solomon lose his words.

In hopes of loosening up from his anxieties, he drank. He told himself it would only be one fancy drink.

But one became two.

Two became three.

Three became four.

And so on.

Soon his drunken mind had been making (what he thought were) cute little passes at Asmo. Or at least what he thought were cute little passes. His sober mind had later realized that almost falling off of a stool and nearly smashing his face into a counter probably wasn't the most ideal form of flirting. But he was drunk on Asmo just as much as he was drunk off of the alcohol. Then they'd moved to the couch. That closeness had gotten to him. Everything was going perfectly.

Until it didn't.

He thought for sure Asmo would have said no to that woman. Solomon should have said no. He had straight A's. He was in the top of their class. All of his professors told him he had a bright future. He was a smart young man.

But he'd made a very stupid decision.

The young woman had only wanted a dance and Solomon certainly didn't want to put a damper on her night. He figured Asmo would have followed to dance. In a way, he hadn't really known what he'd been agreeing to.

Then she kissed him.

Then Asmo wouldn't speak to him.

Text after text ran through his phone. He knew Asmo had to be getting the texts, he never had his phone off. Yet he wasn't responding, and he wasn't posting on his socials.

So there Solomon sat, dejected and kicking himself in the living room. If only he could go back and redo that night. He'd do it right. He would have asked Asmo out right there on the couch.

"Are you going to stop moping soon? I'd like to clean the living room."

Simeon peaked into the doorway, but Solomon didn't bother looking at him. He could wallow in his own pity and lick his wounds a little more. "I apologize, I can move into my room and continue."

"No you won't," Simeon sighed, taking the seat next to him, "You could just come clean to him. I bet it'd make you feel better."

"He won't respond to my texts. I don't think he wants to see me."

"You could send him another letter."

But what to write?

What could Solomon possibly say to explain himself? The more he thought about it, the more he wondered if he’d been toying with Asmo. He kicked himself for having the need to show off and not just asking him out over one of their coffee meet ups. He might have had a better chance then.

He should have kissed Asmo that night.

So he sat hunched over his desk, piles of crumpled up papers sat haphazardly around his trash bin. Nothing seemed right. Flowery language at a time like this just didn’t fit. He wanted to be to the point. He wanted it to be genuine and something Asmo would listen to. That’s when it occurred to him that he just needed Asmo to see him in person. Oh how that thought twisted his stomach into knots. He almost didn’t do it.

It would have been so much easier to admire Asmo from a distance, to slink back inwards and continue to hide himself. But the longing within him hurt, and then the small voice in his head started whispering about how unfair it would be to Asmo. It was already too late to take back everything else he’d said and done; he knew he couldn’t just run away from it. Quickly scrawling out the few words he needed to say. Then, as if to give either one of them one last out, Solomon decided to plant one last letter. He would face death itself in the face and ask Lucifer to deliver the letter for him. Lucifer was protective, and for good reason. Solomon had no clue how he’d react or if he would even deliver the letter. But he would have to trust him.

Everything was so uncertain.

For as long as Solomon could remember, he’d had every step of his life planned out. He’d graduate with high honors from college, go to grad school, get his doctorate, and then teach as a college professor and spend his days responding to emails and grading assignments.

Then he started feeling that funny feeling in his chest, and it scared him. Falling for his best friend and then not being able to shake those feelings had certainly not been in his plans. It wasn’t something he could predict, and he wasn’t sure what to do with it. Asmodeus was smart and spontaneous. He was bright eyed with big dreams for his future and the only one who really ever got him to stop and think about how he’d reach those dreams was Solomon. He was also the one who always talked Solomon into dreaming bigger.

Solomon wasn’t really sure if he believed in fate or destiny or even soul mates, but perhaps this was it. Maybe life had presented him with the perfect person for him all those years ago. They foiled each other out and balanced. It felt perfect, it all felt perfect. His future now felt hazy and unsure, and while it was a terrifying thought Solomon wasn’t entirely sure he minded. Normally he hated uncertainty, but with Asmodeus he found that he didn’t mind. When they were together everything would be fine, no matter what.

When it came to uncertainty about their relationship, he despised it.

He found his thoughts drifting to their relationship more and more as he wandered through their old playground. The setting sun cast shadows between spots where they used to run and play together. He could still remember Asmo’s favorite hiding spots when they used to play hide and seek together. How he would squeal when Solomon caught him. The spot he used to pick flowers for Asmo was now starting to be taken over by weeds or grasses. Rust even covered the structures he and Asmo used to climb all over. Solomon didn’t even feel like he was there. He felt removed, as if he was merely an outside observer.

As the sun creeped lower and the shadows started to disappear, Solomon had started to become more anxious. Had Lucifer even given Asmodeus the letter? Or had Asmo decided that he was done? His anxieties heightened until they reached a plateau of acceptance as he sat on one of the old creaky swings. He’d have to accept that his relationship with Asmodeus would be nothing more than what it always had been. He could be fine with that. He could learn to be fine with that. They would slowly go back to their normal, and with time they’d laugh all of this off.

But for now, he’d stay right in this spot before maybe heading home in the early hours of the morning. He had made a mistake. He’d have to live with the consequences of that mistake forever.

His fingers gripped the chains tighter.

He almost didn’t lift his head when he heard the gate creak open. Any number of people from any number of backgrounds could be coming in. After all, it didn’t seem like people really came to this park any more. So he kept his eyes trained on his feet as he slowly rocked on the swing.

Back and Forth.

Back and Forth.

“Solomon?”

His heart stopped and his eyes widened ever so slightly.

Had he really-?

Slowly he lifted his head. If Asmodeus had been a figure of his imagination in that moment, he wouldn’t have been surprised. But he never disappeared.

If only Solomon’s mind could comprehend the next years of his life after that moment. If only Solomon knew how all of his carefully made plans would change. If only he knew how happy the rest of his life would be after that night.

***

“Hellooooo. Earth to Solomon.”

Solomon squinted his eyes as the hat he’d had was lifted from his face and the sun began to assault his eyes. He squinted for a moment before chuckling at the sight before him, “Ah, I’m sorry, did I go somewhere?”

“Seemed like it,” Asmodeus plopped down next to him on their beach towel under the umbrella and let out a sigh. Solomon glanced over him. Asmodeus was wearing a button up with his swim suit. His button up to be more precise.

Solomon reached out to tug at the end of the shit and let out a little hum, “Not like you to cover up at the beach. I thought you liked to soak up the sun.”

“Well I would have, if someone hadn’t been so insistent on marking me up last night,” he huffed, playfully swatting at Solomon’s hand. This only prompted Solomon to scoot closer, to poke at Asmo’s perfectly manicured finger tips. At which point, Asmo took his hand.

Solomon tried to pull him closer, “They look good on you though, and people should know how loved you are.”

“Well, if you really want to show people how loved I am, you could walk with me on the shoreline,” Asmo pecked his lips to end his sentence, giggling at how red Solomon was becoming. Yes he loved being affectionate, but PDA left him feeling a bit embarrassed.

“I told you the ocean isn’t really all that.”

“Solomon!”

“Fish pee in there you know.”

“Please?” Asmodeus pouted, “It’s romantic. We could find shells. Do it for your husband?”

Solomon tapped his fingers against his stomach, a soft hum leaving his lips. He wasn’t fond of the ocean. Asmodeus was the one who thought a trip here would be romantic for their honeymoon, and he hadn’t been wrong. There was a lot to do on the boardwalk and their honeymoon suite had been phenomenal. He just didn’t think he’d be going anywhere near the ocean. But the more Asmodeus looked at him with those eyes, the further away Solomon’s resolve slipped.

Finally he started to get up, “Alright, we can walk by the shoreline, but I’m not getting in the water.”

“Oh of course honey dearest,” the look Solomon received was absolutely devilish. He didn’t really expect anything less of his husband and oh he loved it. He loved everything about him and he knew he was whipped. But he didn’t care. Whatever spell Asmodeus had him under was strong and Solomon knew he could never bring himself to say no. He’d give the world to Asmo if he would only ask.

So there he was, closer to the ocean than he’d like to be, his hands interlocked with his husband as his ring glinted in the sunlight. The water was cold and clear and felt nice on his feet after walking down in the hot sand. Every now and again a tiny sand crab would quickly burrow below or a jellyfish would come close to washing up on the shore. Children made sand castles as their parents watched on and there was a group nearby laughing and playing with a frisbee. Seagulls and other seabirds stayed nearby, looking for the occasional stray fry or unattended sandwich.

Asmodeus had been right. This was wonderful.

He couldn’t wait to spend the rest of the week here with his wonderful husband. Solomon squeezed Asmo’s hand, running his thumb over the smooth skin of his hand. “Ah, I almost forgot. I promised you a house didn’t I?”

Asmo’s eyes sparkled when he turned to look at him. They’d been apartment hopping while Solomon finished up his last years of schooling. They’d talked about it ever since they’d gotten engaged. Well, Asmodeus gushed about it. He always said how he wanted to make a home with Solomon, how he wanted a large bathroom and a nice little studio to work on his designs. Solomon had played into it mentioning how he wouldn’t mind having an office space.

“You did.”

“I was so happy being here with you I almost forgot about it.”

“Solomon!”

“I’m kidding,” before he could get the words out, Asmodeus kicked some water his way. Well, of course this was unforgivable. Solomon bent over to splash water up at his husband. Then a war broke out. The two of them continued to throw water at each other, salt splashing on their lips and both becoming completely wet.

“I thought you said you weren’t getting in the water,” Asmodeus giggled as the two of them were waist deep in the ocean. However his giggles quickly turned into squeals as Solomon picked him up and threw them both into the water, his husband clung to him sputtering all the way until their knees could touch the sandy bottom.

“Of course that’s what I said but my husband makes me do crazy things,” he pecked his lips, feeling his cheeks heating up, “You know you ruined all of my perfectly planned out future?”

“Oh did I now?”

“Mmhm,” the two of them slowly made their way back far enough till they could sit on the beach, “I had everything pictured to a t, but then I fell in love with you, and now my future is even more wonderful than I could have ever planned.”

Solomon watched the tears pool at those pretty lashes and his pretty lips pucker out before Asmo lunged at him. The kiss was sweet and heartfelt, and Solomon could taste the salt water on him. The sun outlined him perfectly as he pulled away, and Solomon swore he was staring at an angel.

“I love you so much,” he whispered.

Solomon couldn’t have imagined a better future than the one he was in now, and he knew that it would only get better from here. Asmo kissed him once more and Solomon felt like he was soaring. When they pulled away Solomon knew he was smiling like an idiot.

“We’re going to make a home together.”

He wasn’t sure how planned the rest of their lives were going to be, but he did know that it would be perfect.

[anusha-swritings]

Back Off! H.S. AU! Coach Harry

Background: In this Harry (25)  is living with fame as a coach and he hides his money as best he can, but his generosity toward everyone, ruins it.

Summary: Coach!Harry brought a few students home to work on extra curriculars, it didn’t go as plan when they start hitting on his wife.

Warnings: none

MASTERLIST

3rd POV

Harry finished packing his bag, walking out of his head coaches office. He crossed the hall over to the boy's locker room. He knocked on the door calling for Dylan. Illiana and Dylan Stevenson, the “Stevenson Twins” as they were called, had asked him for extra help to make their teams this year. He waited in the hall texting his wife y/n that he was about to leave the school and that he was gonna bring 2 of his students over to practice for a bit and they would stay for dinner. He gave her specific instructions NOT to cook dinner. He felt very obligated to make her dinner every night. It was only fair since she was home and cleaned the house and did the laundry all day, while he was at work.

Finally, the two of them were ready and they all walked to his car. He opened the trunk of his Audi and helped them put their equipment in. They chatted lightly and he gave them some info about his life outside of the high school he worked at. He told them about his wife and his home, 5-acre property with a basketball and tennis court, a guest house, and pool.

They drove through the woods and up to his secluded “oasis in the middle of the woods” as he called it. He parked the car and the children got out. They pretended not to be amazed at all by the fact that Harry could afford this on a teacher’s salary. Deep down both of these disgusting rich snobs were thoroughly impressed. Not even their CEO parents could afford this.

They stepped into the foyer and removed their shoes. He led the kids to the spare room. “You can keep all your stuff here, and just meet me downstairs when you’re done.’ He closed the door behind himself and headed downstairs, letting them change into their practice uniforms.  Harry went downstairs and into the kitchen. A frown immediately set into his face when he saw his beautiful wife, y/n, standing over the stove cooking when he had distinctly told her not to. He carefully crept up behind her and snaked his arms around her waist. He felt her jump a bit in his arms and smirked. “Hello love,” he whispered into her neck. “Hi Haz,” she responded with his favorite nickname. He turned her around in his arms, “I thought I told you not to cook?” He asked somewhat hypothetically. 

She slipped out of his arms and sauntered over to the refrigerator door. “Well, I figured you would be too tired to cook after work, and then busy helping them.” She referred to the kids. “I just thought I’d make dinner one time.” Harry sighed and rolled his eyes “But darling, you know it's not a one-time thing first it’s because of the kids, then tomorrow it’ll happen again, it’s just a never-ending cycle.” 

She turned around and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I’m sorry baby I know you feel guilty. I haven’t even done much today. I was out with my friends and spent less than an hour cleaning up, and going to the studio to check up on the album. I’m not too tired and I can make dinner. Ok?” He sighed once more. “Ok, fine. They’re staying for dinner too so we have to make enough for the kids. I’m gonna go open the courts then change, just ask them to wait outside while I change I’ll be back soon.” Then Harry warns her that “Dylan can be an asshole and Illiana can be a bit bitchy. So I’m sorry in advance for anything they may say, love.”

“Ok baby, I’ll be careful.” She wished him watching him walk out the grey french doors leading to the patio and backyard.

Y/n’s POV

I watched Harry walk out the door and I was about to get the vegetables out of the fridge when his students walked down the stairs. Harry stepped back inside the house putting his keys back in the bowl and walking up next to me in the kitchen. “y/n love this is Illiana and Dylan.”

Illiana looked disgusted and unimpressed. Dylan, on the other hand, was checking me out, I could see Harry's jaw clenched ever so slightly as his eyes raked over my figure. 

“Nice to meet you two,” I responded politely. Dylan reached over shaking my hand. “The pleasure is all mine.” He replied cockily.

“Okay!” Harry interrupted. I wiped my hands on my apron and went back to cutting my vegetables as Harry told Dylan the basketball court was all set up for practice. 

“Actually Mr. Styles, Illiana is going to practice first, if that’s okay with you?” Dylan said taking a seat at the barstool across from me.

“Yeah, ok that's fine.” Harry responded. Illiana followed him out to the tennis court. I started putting the vegetables in the flying pan, hearing the simmer. “So,” I started, feeling Dylan’s stare on my back. “Tell me about yourself, what are your hobbies?” 

“Well I play a lot of sports,” he said leaning onto the counter and clearing his throat. “Basketball, football, wrestling, and I like to work on cars. They’ve been a hobby of mine for a while.” 

“Oh, I love cars too,” I smiled, grabbing some spices from the cabinet. “I used to help my dad work on them when I was a kid. My favorite car is this ‘97 baby blue mustang Harry bought it for me for my birthday.”

“Oh that must be a difficult car to work on, huh?” He asked while I was stirring the sauce on the stove. “Not many mechanics who are willing to do even the most basic things on that kind of engine. I can totally help you out if you need?” 

As soon as I heard what he said I started laughing. “Um...what's so funny.” He asked, confused. “It’s just that when I was growing up, I always told myself that I would fix my own cars. Even if it gets really bad, I have a friend who’s a professional mechanic so she also always teaches me new things I may not know.” 

His face paled, “She?” he asked, confused. “Um...yeah.”

Meanwhile…..

Harry’s POV

As soon as we stepped outside I could feel an uncomfortable stare on the back of my head. Everytime she went to pick up a ball she would bend over in her tennis skirt. I pretended not to notice and moved on with instructing her. 

After about an hour of working with Illiana, we headed inside and the siblings switched places. Dylan and I headed to the basketball court, while Illiana took his place on the counter watching y/n cook. 

Dylan had tryouts for the varsity team tomorrow, so I understood seeing a tad bit of aggression in his playing. Except as we continued playing he increasingly became more aggressive until he was pushing me to the ground and making illegal fouls.

At one point he had pushed me so hard that I lost balance for a minute and decided we both needed a break to cool down. Maybe then I could talk to him and try to figure out what was wrong.

I sat down at the bench, while Dylan continued to show off making dunks. Before I could say anything to him he sauntered over and started to talk himself. “Ya know you may look young, but you sure do act like an old man.” I was shocked, but didn’t show it on my face. I stood up feeling renewed. 

Meanwhile…..

Y/n’s POV

I was cutting the chicken and placing the pieces onto the stove to cook properly, when Illiana sighed rolling her eyes. She’d been doing this for about 20 minutes, everytime I added something to the frying pan, or moved onto the next step in my cooking she did this. I was fed up and done with what she was doing.

“Is there a problem?” I asked sweetly, not bothering to turn around. “Do you need something, love?” She scowled in disgust. “Yes there is a problem. You’re not good enough.” She stated blatantly. “What?!” I asked. “You heard me.'' She stated, raising her eyebrows. You. Aren’t. Good Enough. For. Him.” I gasped, no one had ever said anything like that to me before. Part of my chest hurt as I felt the anxiety pool there. The other part of me knew Harry loved me and that’s all that mattered. She smirked thinking her words had an effect on me.

I was about to shoot back at her when Harry walked in. He looked stressed and I decided to talk with him about it later. Harry went up to take  a shower and the kids changed their clothes. I set the table and served the food waiting for everyone to join me. I decided to check in on Harry, and that’s when he told me what the kids had done to him. When I explained my side of the story Harry was fuming, but I calmed him down and we decided that if they kept this up we’d make sure they regret it. 

We headed down the stairs, and sat next to each other at the dinner table. Soon the twins joined us Illiana across from me and Dylan across from Harry. About 20 minutes into dinner Harry felt a heeled shoe shuffle up his pant leg. I saw him visibly tense, and looked over at me, seeing my legs not near him. We looked across the table and saw Illiana smirk. I pushed her leg away with mine causing a surprised look to appear on her face. 

A few minutes later Dylan started playing footsie with me and his Harry on accident. Harry realized what was going on and finally let his anger go. He yelled at the kids and sent them home immediately. He called the principal and explained what was going on, followed by their parents. The kids got 2 week suspensions each, for flirting with,  and assaulting a teacher. 

Harry and I ended the night with our own candle lit dinner and a night of netflix and cuddles.

[petri808]

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30-Epilogue

Lucy POV. TW: Panic Attack, Mental trauma/coping, PTSD

The university and Lucy’s professors had been really wonderful about everything, even offering to convert her classes to an online option so she could continue. She wasn’t happy about the idea of taking a sabbatical from college, but there was no way she could manage. Not only was it difficult for her to leave the apartment because seeing anyone that remotely resembled Touka sent her into a panic attack, focusing on anything at all was a struggle. Night after night it haunted her dreams and spilled into her waking moments. She’d run scenarios through her mind, all the what if’s, should haves, could haves, often leading to horrifying outcomes. They’d survived, yes, but at what cost?

She didn’t feel the same anymore as if a part of her did die in that apartment or fled to a hidden part of her brain too scared to come back out. The once happy, positive person had become a nervous wreck unable to control her emotions or outbursts. Lucy’s bedroom became her safe zone from everyone, even those closest to her, ashamed and insecure of their judgement. In her heart she knew friends like Levy or Natsu wouldn’t judge... but tell that to her broken mind, because her brain was the one in control at the moment, and insisted they’d look down on her.

All the irrational thoughts. It was her fault for not being careful, her fault she was kidnapped. Lucy knew Touka was growing dangerous, yet walking alone, at night... utterly stupid. She should have been overzealous at protecting herself, but oh no, stupid girl didn’t want to believe anything would actually happen. Until it did. And now she was even more pathetic and weak for not getting a hold of her emotions, for not controlling it instead of it controlling her. The danger had passed. They were alive. Touka was in jail. It should be over, but it wasn’t. Lucy couldn’t move past that night, stuck in an endless loop of fear. So many nights she’d wake up in a panic covered in sweat, the fading images of red... blood... like dripping down a tv screen in a horror movie. It was Natsu’s blood she saw and his screams when the knife had sliced him open.

The first week after the event had been difficult, sitting through an interview with Gajeel, and reliving all the mental wounds. It took several hours to get through it all despite the man doing his best to go easy on her. Each time painful parts came up, Lucy felt the anxieties rise, the mental blurring, the shaking, literally a physical shaking of her body in an effort to dispel the rise of adrenaline coursing through her veins. Interviews are best done without any other potential witnesses in the room to avoid cross contamination, but after Lucy’s first two attempts to talk to investigators failed, Gajeel was forced to allow Natsu in with explicit instructions to sit quietly and say nothing while the woman talked. Of course, Natsu’d been fine with that, he’d do anything to help, even if it was just holding Lucy’s hand. But it only added to her embarrassment. Surely Natsu will eventually tire of having an unstable girlfriend.

Then there was the therapist Levy helped Lucy to find which she hoped would help her to quickly get over the events and move on. So, when the woman explained that such traumas take patience and time to process, Lucy was devastated. It almost felt like nothing was going her way anymore, falling dominoes with no end in sight. She felt so ashamed for having to see the woman in the first place, and now she’s told it would be a long journey towards recovery. Just great! What’s next?!

“Lu?” Levy knocked before opening the bedroom door. “Are you gonna eat your dinner in here again? It’s ready.”

With the curtains drawn, Lucy’s room was dark and the only light available was a small desk lamp next to the bed set to a low setting. She peeked out from under her blanket. “I-I’ll come out in a minute, thanks Lev.”

As soon as her friend closed the door, Lucy exhaled in relief. She knew Levy was worried about the amount of time she stayed holed up in the room, so to dispel some of those concerns, Lucy would join her roommate for meals. She quickly applied a gauze wrap, threw on her long sleeve hoodie, and left the room. It made her feel safer to be shrouded and covered up, so gone were her skirts and tank tops, and hello to long sleeves and pants. If she could cover her face from the world, it would make her happy. Even her overall hygiene suffered. Lucy would forget to bathe or wash her hair for days on end, and it took Levy or Natsu with gentle prodding to get her to do it. She would wear the same clothes for a week if it wasn’t for Levy who made sure she changed at least every couple of days. Hell, she’d starve if her roommate wasn’t feeding her. This was a frustrating cycle, not having the mental energy to take care of herself, then feeling bad because they had to help her with things, which made her feel even worse.

It tore at Lucy’s heart to watch Natsu going through this process with her. She knew he was going through his own struggles, not just mental, but physically healing from his wounds. And here she was, the basket case of instability. Bless him, he never gave up no matter how distant she grew, but after that night, Lucy really didn’t want to talk about anything out loud, not that night, and certainly not the true extent of her pain from it. Both Levy and Natsu knew only what she couldn’t hide from them. Like the panic attacks, and since she really didn’t want them to see her go through one or what she’d resorted to, to calm herself, so the safest solution was stay quiet and not trigger them in their presence.

To show his dedication, Natsu even went with her to her therapy sessions and waited outside the office. Lucy knew it was costing him money to do this, because she couldn’t ride a train which meant cab rides every single trip. It bothered her a lot, but she did her best to hide it, and besides there was one small measure of security in having him at her side when she needed to venture out into the public.

“So, the nightmares are still a problem?” the therapist questioned Lucy. “Are you sure you don’t want to try a medication? It would help to ease them until we can get things under control.”

Lucy gripped to the hem of her sweater. “I just don’t wanna become addicted to that stuff...”

“That’s understandable. But not all are addictive, and I’ll be here to make sure it doesn’t get out of hand.”

“I... I don’t think I’m ready.”

“Okay, that’s fine,” the woman smiled. “Remember I’m just here to help you, at your pace. I won’t force you take anything you don’t want to.”

“Thank you.”

“What about the breathing and relaxation techniques? When you feel the anxiety rising, are you trying out the steps?”

“I try... I don’t think I’m very successful at it.”

“Does it work sometimes?”

Lucy pauses for a few seconds in thought before nodding yes.

“See, that is progress!” The woman encouraged excitedly. “Two weeks ago, it didn’t help at all, and now it works sometimes. It’s a big step forward Lucy.”

“Doesn’t feel like it is...” Lucy mumbled.

“I know it’s hard to see it for yourself, and that’s okay. These things take time and practice. Do you remember what I said about these things?”

“Not really.” Which was true. During the first week when the therapist explained the processes, Lucy had stopped listening as soon as the woman said it would take time.

“Let me ask you a question. You like to write stories, right?”

“Yeah.”

“When you first started, were you able to just write perfect stories.”

“Pfft, no.”

“Then how did you get better at it?”

Lucy rolled her eyes, knowing where this was going. “Practice.”

“Yes! The PTSD requires learning new coping skills as well as unlearning irrational ones. To do both takes practice. The more we work at it, the easier it will get, I promise. One day you’ll be able to look back at this experience and feel stronger for it.”

She really wanted to believe the woman, but it was so hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel! Tears well up in Lucy’s eyes, seconds before they start to flow down her cheeks. “Why is this so hard?! I just wanna get back to normal!” She could feel her anxieties rising. “I... I-I don’t wanna talk about it anymore! I just wanna forget it ever happened!”

The woman reached over and took Lucy’s hand, applying a strategic amount of pressure while rubbing her thumb over the webbing in a counter stimulus. She softened in tone. “I wish I could say that would work, but in order to get past it, you need to confront it. Together we’re gonna turn the boogieman into Casper the friendly ghost.”

It was such a weird way of putting things, it caused Lucy’s mind to snap out of the anxiety and snort a sniffling laugh in response. “Casper the friendly ghost?!”

“It was the first thing to pop into my mind,” the therapist laughed too. “The point is, we’re going to work together and slowly bring you to a place where this no longer scares you.”

“O-Okay...”

The rest of the session was tough, and Lucy had come close to a panic attack several times, but as a trained therapist, the woman stepped in at the right times to bring her levels down again using breaks and breathing routines. Sure, with a professional in front of you, it wasn’t as bad, but doing this on her own, the attacks were still winning. At the end of the session, the woman suggested a new technique to try out based on Lucy’s love of writing.

“You’ve heard of art therapy, so just think of this as a different form of creative therapy. Writing a diary is helpful to get out your feelings out in a healthy way. But let’s take it one step forward to use your skills in fiction writing. I want you to try before the next session, writing a story where you interject your emotions, feelings, whatever you want into the characters and story. Kind of like your character becomes you, but now you get to control what happens to them after the trauma they endure.”

“Wait, so you want me to write about a character that goes through what I went through?! Like torture my own character?!”

“Yes, to put it bluntly. Take your pain and unleash it onto the fictional character. It’s a much healthier way of releasing your anger or frustration in something that can’t really be hurt. Do whatever you want to them. But remember you also get to give them the ending you want to. It’s about utilizing a tool you’re already comfortable with and taking back some control. It’ll be normal if you cry, scream, and get upset through the process, but that’s okay, because instead of holding it all in, you’re getting your feelings out.”

Lucy slumped back in her seat. It sounded strange, yet at the same time made a bit of sense to her. Angst type stories were not really her forte, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t do it, especially since pain is all she was channeling at the moment. She sighed. “I’ll try.”

“And that’s totally okay. All I ask is that you give it a try.”

[mrslittletall]

Oh, sorry about that last ask, honestly forgot about fandom asdhyhyd um, same number, but bloodborne and the orphan of kos? weird choice i know

Title: Mindless Fandom: Bloodborne Characters: Lady Maria of the Astral Clocktower, Orphan of Kos Word Count: 2.270 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30595280

Summary: After her death, Lady Maria is stuck in a nightmare. After she finds out, that the Hamlet is behind the place she has awoken in, she goes investigating.

(Author's note:

14: Mindless

It is incredibly difficult to come up with something for a boss that exists only as some kind of concept in a nightmare, so I decided to go with an outsider POV for this. So, this might have turned more into a Lady Maria character study, so sorry if that wasn't what you were looking for, anon. It was just the only way I could think about how to make this prompt work.)

Maria had died, but she hadn't found peace.

She had awoken again, in the very clocktower in which she had taken her own life. Around her, the research hall, housing all the patients, the... the experiments. Maria had always refused to call them like this, she always had treated them as humans, regardless of how much the church was dehumanizing them.

Maria had tried to get out of the Research Hall. She needed to see where she was. She was sure that she had died, but the Research Hall looked like an exact copy of what she remembered. She made it through a prison block, one of the Healing Church and once she stepped outside, she knew that she indeed had died.

What laid in front of her, was a nightmarish version of Yharnam, mostly of Cathedral Ward. A fake light shone down on it, a pale, lifeless light and as she wandered through it, hunters and beasts were locked in an eternal battle. This place truly was a nightmare... a nightmare for hunters, and Maria had been a hunter herself.

True, she had quit the job, cast her weapon away and turned to comfort the patients in the Research Hall, but when she looked down at her hip, she could see the very same Rakuyo she had cast away and she was clothed in her garb, right up to the feathered hat.

Maria returned to the clocktower and sat down, waiting. She was dead and wasn't getting hungry or thirsty or tired. Most of the time she did just... think. Think about how her death had affected the ones she left behind. Gehrman, Micolash, Laurence... Adeline, the blood saint in the Research Hall she had taken a liking too. She was here as well, at least a version of her that her mind must have been fabricated. Maria felt that the Research Hall was her own personal hell, like the hunters outside were locked into an endless cycle of the hunt.

Maria could hear it. The sounds behind the big clock. The rushing of waves. The dripping of water. She could smell it, the faint smell of salt and the much more prominent smell of rotten fish.

She knew that behind the door there would lay something that scared her even more than the Research Hall... but one day she couldn't bear it anymore. She needed to know.

So Maria got up from her chair, in which she must have sat for days. Or weeks. Or months. Or years. Time wasn't a concept in this place, so she didn't know, only that it had been a long time.

She faced the structure behind her and held up an item known as the celestial dial, knowing that it would open the way. After the hole had fully opened, Maria took a deep breath, even though she didn't need to breathe anymore and stepped through it.

There was a small cave, but once she traversed it, Maria saw her true nightmare right in front of her eyes.

The Fishing Hamlet...

It felt like ages had passed since she had been sent here alongside Gehrman. Because of their combat prowess they had been chosen to take care of any attacks, so that the scholars could work unhindered. Maria hadn't questioned it back then. She had trusted Master Willem's word, that they were doing the right thing, that the villagers of the Hamlet were in the wrong for keeping the treasure of the stranded Great One for themselves.

That it had been Byrgenwerth and not the Healing Church, made the whole thing even worse. The Healing Church hadn't even existed back then. Laurence had been in the middle of his blood research, having been excluded from the trip, because Master Willem had been against it. Of course the sneaky bastard still had found a way to follow them and harvest the blood of the Great One while everyone else had been distracted. Still, Maria had acted under the order of Byrgenwerth. She had done atrocious things in the name of knowledge... atrocious things she wanted to absolve while serving the Church, only to realize that she had gone from serving one monster to serve another monster. Still, she could have believed it far more if the Healing Church had been the one to attack the Hamlet.

In a sense, the Healing Church started in Byrgenwerth, so she shouldn't be too surprised.

Maria continued walking, the shallow water washing around her boot, cold water dousing her feet. There was a figure limping forward, mumbling something about Byrgenwerth, but when she stayed to listen, she quickly realized that they didn't notice her, forever caught in their ramblings.

Approaching the village, Maria's hands encompassed her Rakuyo. She couldn't preclude the possibility that the nightmare had conjured the villagers, the one Willem had let cut open to search for eyes in their brain, to attack anyone approaching their sanctuary.

For some reason, nobody disturbed her. She could cross the village without fail. Sometimes she heard sounds, the splashing of water, the shuffling of feet, the creaking of wood... along with the prominent smell of fish, that had dried on land for a little too long, but nobody ever stood in her way.

Maria stopped when she came upon a certain well. She knew this well. That had been the well she had tossed her Rakuyo in. Once again, her grip around her Rakuyo tightened. She knew that her gear wasn't real, and was a fabrication of the dream, but she asked herself if she still would find a Rakuyo in there... her Rakuyo...

Maria had to wrest herself free from her thoughts. This wasn't why she had come here. She had another goal.

So, she continued walking, each step filling her boots with more water, until her feet were freezing and her whole body shivered, even though she knew that she wasn't alive anymore. Her body still made her believe that she was alive...

Maria stepped out of the cave, approaching the corpse on the shore. Kos, the Great One they had come here for. The Great One which Laurence had harvested the blood from. The Great One which Willem had cut open to take a piece of her unborn child...

All Great Ones lose their children and long for a surrogate. The thought was predominant in Maria's head. Did they really lose their children or did humans take them? A question that she would never get an answer too...

She didn't even know why she had come here. To make up for her crimes? To get answers? That was something she could never make up for. Maybe she had simply come to apologize.

So, Maria kneeled down in front of Kos and folded her hands in prayer, when something stirred inside the dead body.

Maria was on her feet immediately, her Rakuyo on the ready, her eyes fixated on Kos' stomach.

Something... crawled out of Kos, no... it looked... looked like she gave birth. But that couldn't be. She knew that the child had been dead. She had been a part of killing it. Maria gasped as the creature was completely “born” and slowly got up. That wasn't... that surely didn't look like a child. It was large, with grey skin, managed to step up on two feet and... actually still was connected to the placenta of its mother.

It looked like the most nightmarish thing she had seen and she was currently stuck in a nightmare.

Still, the way it stood there, the way it seemed to wail, that was nothing but a lost, confused and scared child.

Maria lowered her Rakuyo and took a step closer.

“Hey.”, she said. “I am not here to-”

Before she could even finish her sentence the child approached her with a blood-curdling scream. Maria gasped in shock and surprise and stepped out of the way, to not be crushed by this giant placenta, that the creature used like a mace.

“I am not here to fight!”, she screamed, trying to drown out their screams. “I want to talk!”

She didn't have any luck. The creature continued to attack her and with Maria refusing to fight back, she quickly became overwhelmed and felt how her body got crushed under the “club” of the creature.

When she awoke, she was back in the Astral Clocktower. She let out a deep sigh, of course she wouldn't be able to escape this nightmare by dying in it. She was forced to come back again and again, just like the hunters and the beasts.

She very well remembered what had happened. The creature... the child... They had attacked her. Did they think she was responsible for the death of their mother? While Maria wasn't responsible for Kos' death, the Great One had been dead when they found her, she was responsible for the death of the child.

The child couldn't know that. It got born, saw a dead mother and attacked the first person they thought responsible. In their sense, they were an orphan and upset about it. There were so many things Maria didn't know about the Great Ones, but she was sure that they wouldn't differ in wanting to have the comfort of their parents.

Maria decided to meet the orphan another time and see if she could help. They didn't want to listen to her. They probably weren't aware of them being in a nightmare and Maria just wanted to help.

So she went to the shore another time. The Orphan of Kos, Maria had decided to call them like that, was still there. As soon as she approached them, they were back at attacking her.

“Stop it!”, Maria screamed. “I know you have every right to hate me, but it won't do anything good! We are both stuck in a nightmare!”

Again, Maria was struck down and woke up at the Astral Clocktower. Again, Maria went back to meet the Orphan of Kos.

This time she fought back. If the Orphan didn't want to listen, she would make it listen and if that meant to beat some sense into it, so that it would finally stop attacking her.

Maria had to learn the hard way that the Orphan only got stronger the more it got cornered. She still felt the aftershock of its electric attack when she woke up in her chair again.

Their encounters continued like that. Maria knew that she would be able to just strike the Orphan down if she would get all out, but she despised using her blood powers and she didn't want to strike them down, she wanted to talk. She only fought because the Orphan didn't want to listen.

So they fought each time they met and slowly, Maria mentioned to gain the upper hand, finally having figured out how to best avoid the Orphan's attacks and striking their weak points to make them yield. During this time, she actually cherished not being able to die anymore, that surely gave her infinite tries. Being dead had its merits after all.

Finally, Maria managed to overpower the Orphan, her sword at their throat and her foot on their chest, as they trashed and flailed beneath her.

“Finally.”, Maria said. “Will you finally listen? I only wanted to talk. About all this here. The nightmare around us. The fact that it seems to be a cruel warp of the reality I tried to escape. That the Fishing Hamlet is here. Why you stayed in your mother's belly for so many years. I just want to try and help.” Or did she? Had she really come here just to help? Wasn't she here to find some answers about her suffering...?

There wasn't an answer, just more thrashing and flailing. Maria had to give her best to not be knocked off. “I just want some answers!”, she suddenly cried out, tears welling up in her eyes. Who had decided for her that she should keep living in this nightmare? Who had cursed her for all eternity? Why did she have to relive the things she wanted to forget over and over again.

“Tell me! You are the source of this nightmare, are you not?!”

Maria startled at the sound of her own voice. That wasn't like her. She had always been kind and compassionate, not furious, holding a sword at the throat of what was classified as a toddler.

Wiping the tears out of her eyes, she took a deep breath and looked the Orphan in the eyes... and that is when she noticed it.

“You don't even have a mind...”, she said. “You weren't even allowed to be born. This, all of this, it's just a manifestation of my own guilt and shame.”

Maria removed her Rakuyo from the Orphan's throat and the next thing she knew was that she was back in the Astral Clocktower.

With a sigh, she sat down on the sole chair there, picking up a photograph to look at. “We should have never come to the Hamlet.”, she murmured. “If we had just left Kos alone, nothing of this would have ever happened.”

Maria put the photograph to the side and sank down into her chair. There was no escape out of this nightmare, but she knew what her task in it was. Whoever would make it into it from the waking world, she would step up and prevent them from going further. She would keep the secret of the Hamlet, even in her own death.

Because a corpse should be well left alone. (Author's note: I am not super satisfied with this one, but I hope you enjoy it regardless. Like I said, it was a difficult prompt with a difficult character. Sadly we don't have much lore about Kos and the Orphan of Kos and the Fishing Hamlet is one of the biggest lore messes in the whole world of Bloodborne.)

[aswellingstorm]

taylor swift x catradora playlist

in honor of evermore dropping tonight (midnight, EST) i humbly present the following by album break down of songs that miss swift wrote solely for catradora

taylor swift (2006)

tied together with a smile--the struggle adora faces being the hero/put on a pedestal from her horde days to becoming she ra

invisible--catra facing jealousy over adora’s new friendships

i’m only me when i’m with you--young catradora/growing up in the horde

fearless (2008)

forever & always-- broken promise. need i say more

white horse-- catra’s resentment for adora’s hero complex

breathe-- mutual catra & adora--struggling to cope with the other choosing the opposing side

you’re not sorry--adora coming to terms w post s3 catra & having to accept her former best friend has gone too far this time

change-- post s1 victory for adora

speak now (2010)

the story of us--princess prom catradora vibes

mean--unfortunately.........could see the best friend squad singing this therapeutically & adora thinking of catra

better than revenge-- ‘stealing other peoples toys on the playground won’t make you many friends//i’m just another thing for you to roll your eyes at honey’....jealous catra really comes thru here

innocent-- feel like this could be applied to adora but more specifically catra losing herself and her innocence in this war/getting caught in the cycle of abuse shadow weaver set her in at a young age

if this were a movie-- adora’s naïve hope that catra might make the right choice one day

haunted-- ‘all this time you and i have walked a fragile line, never thought i’d live to see it break’, easily fits into adora leaving the horde, but def has the angsty vibes for ‘save the cat’

back to december--regret. longing. wishing u could take something back but knowing you really cant

enchanted--ok hear me out. not necessarily a ‘meet cute’ for them, but could def see this song playing at a princess prom post s5 and being a cute look for them over all.

red (2012)

treacherous--post ‘save the cat’, catra learning redemption is....something she Wants

the last time--post-portal. def reminds me of the scene where catra saves glimmer and apologizes to adora

sad beautiful tragic-- break up sadness

the lucky one--more adora becoming she ra/learning the truth of mara

i almost do--catra & adora missing each other on opposite sides of the war

come back...be here--^^

state of grace--end of/post s5

1989 (2014)

out of the woods--i mean..........those ladies entered the whispering woods in s1 on a stolen skiff and did not leave until the end of the series

all you had to do was stay-- aside from the title... “let me remind you this was what you wanted // you ended it// you were all I wanted //but not like this”. def catra yearning

i wish you would--all of the lyrics. all of them

bad blood--warrants no explanation

this love-- “when you’re young, you just run// but you always come back to what you need”......................the defense rests

clean--s4 adora accepting and coming to terms w catra’s decision

wonderland-- really captures the betrayal/hurt of s1 catradora

you are in love-- adora POV// subtle moments leading up to realizing she loves catra

new romantics--”we need love, but all we want is danger//we team up then switch sides like a record changer”

catra’s personal memoir reputation (2017)

i did something bad--a title that could (unfortunately for everyone else) summarize a large majority of catra’s decisions. the song is very justified/righteous anger/revenge. basically a ‘fuck you, i know i’m bad’ & embracing that. reminds me of her kicking sw & hordaks ass (the rebellion could never) and her just...war criming it up in the crimson waste

Look What You Made Me Do-- void!catra void!catra void!catra void!catra void!catra void!catra--

getaway car--could see this from adora’s perspective to catra solely for the whole leaving/betrayal bit. but might be more fighting for double trouble & catra’s relationship

dancing with our hands tied-- i mean...lyrically. everything. but esp ‘I'd kiss you as the lights went out//swaying as the room burned down//I'd hold you as the water rushes in//If I could dance with you again”

dress-- “i dont want you like a best friend”. period. end of sentence. 

this is why we can’t have nice things--s1 promise feels. the lack of forgiveness, the shade. u know.

lover (2019)

cruel summer-- “i scream for whatever it’s worth, i love you--ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?” the heart. the longing. the ‘i dont want to keep secrets just to keep you’

the archer-- ‘who could ever leave me, but who could stay?’ + the rest of the song is v fitting for both catra/adora

afterglow--making up, admitting wrongs--catra perspective

miss americana & the heartbreak prince--idk just the narrative of the song reminds me of them

it’s nice to have a friend--whooooh boy this post is not about glimbow but this song works equally as well for them

daylight--enjoy the healing

lover--enjoy the healing pt 2

death by a thousand cuts-- warrants 0 explanation

folklore (2020)

finally

the 1-- definitley adora POV, reminiscing on maybe what they could have been. maybe in a world where catra never redeemed herself or they never reunited and adora watched her friends pair up/get married/build lives w each other, she might realize there is a whole in her heart. a part that’s missing and cant be explained, but she feels it every time she looks at glimmer&bow. 

cardigan-- feels like catra writing a letter to adora. reflecting on the feelings of hurt and betrayal after time has passed and the anger fades

exile -- lowkey the premise of my fic but. ‘i’m not your problem anymore/ you were my crown/ now i’m in exile seeing you out’ catra was raised to feel like she was adora’s problem to fix. she feels cast aside by her for a majority of the series etc

my tears ricochet-- “i didn't have it in myself to go with grace//and you're the hero flying around saving face//and if I'm dead to you why are you at the wake?//cursing my name, wishing I stayed//look at how my tears ricochet” tswift explained this in the doc about how no one can hurt you like your best friend turned enemy. so i think in that sense this song works from adora’s perspective--but there’s so much bitterness and anger that i feel like it fits more from catra’s POV

seven-- “love you to the moon and to saturn//passed down like folksongs//the love lasts so long” i feel like this is so young/child adora and her feelings of protectiveness over catra. their bond through trauma and abuse

august--lmaoooooo i know. ok i KNOW what the deal is. i KNOW that cardigan, august and betty are a narrative story and really there are 3 POVs--james, betty & august. but i will do with that what i please. i just see catra’s pov from this song just as much as i see it for cardigan. her losing adora/feeling like adora doesn’t want her back or will choose other ppl over her. 

this is me trying--can fit adora’s need to be everything for everyone/fear of failure--leading to burn out. also works for what i assume how catra’s redemption arc continued post s5. progress isn’t linear and this can show both of them struggling to recover from abuse

invisible string--if u strip out the imagery of taylor and her mans then sure

mad woman--i MEAN...is this not catra’s villain origin story? so often she was just poked/kicked/provoked into continuing down the dark path. not always by adora but regardless.

epiphany-- ‘with you i serve, with you i fall down’ reminding me of them both fighting/practicing/training together pre-s1 as well as them finally teaming up

betty--betty betty betty. the worst thing these two have ever done is what they did to each other. i see it more catra to adora, but it can go either way. gotta admire catra’s range for fitting into the role of betty, august + james... who else is doing it quite like her?

peace-- adora to catra. she can never not be she ra. is that enough for catra?

hoax--def more of a catra POV

evermore (2020?)

tbd......

[impala1967dwinchester]

Dean Winchester: Queen

*Credit to gif owner* 

Paring: Dean x reader 

Pov: Readers

Warnings: Dean dressing in drag, swearing, Dean, loss of a bet, Dean being cocky, mention of Sam, Jealous!Reader Angst/Fluff, lots of talks with Sam, lots of talking with Dean towards the end. reader self-doubt, Dean being reassuring. 

Summary: When Dean and the reader place a bet, it goes very much not in Dean favor. Dean has a tendency to get bored quickly though, which leads down a harsh road for the reader. Coming back to the bunker she tries to pretend everything is fine, but Dean wants answers. 

Word Count: 3k 

A/N- I know lots of pov switches I’m sorry... but I hope this is good and y’all like it. 

Main masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Taglist: @akshi8278​ @deanswaywardgirl​ @hit-meup69​

“Bets are down!” Sam said.

Y/n had bet that if she won that game of pool that Dean would have to dress in drag. Dean bet that if he won pool which he was cocky about winning that Y/n would have to do the research for the next four hunts.  

What neither one of them knew was the bet the other one placed.  

Sam was the only one. So, the game began. I racked up the fifteen Dean grabbed his pool stick, and grabbed me a pool stick as well. He was being sort of gentleman. He chalked the end of both the pool sticks.  

“Are you ready to get your ass beat!?” Dean said handing me my pool stick. “I can’t wait for you to have to do my bet.” Dean said excitement dripping into his words.  

I rolled my eyes and rocked on the back of my heels. “Are you done being cocky Dean, so we can play this game?” I asked looking over at Sam.  

He just shrugged and watch Dean and I. “Come on Dean just play. Stop trying to be an asshole. I bet Y/n doesn’t really care how much you show off.” Sam said.  

Dean huffed and started to play. His board shoulders leaning over the pool table, lining the pool stick up with the white cue ball. I lifted the rack and stepped away from the pool table.  

He struck the cue ball and game began. None of the colored balls or striped balls ended up ports at the corners of the pool table. Dean stepped back and let me have a go, figuring out what ball I wanted to take a hit at I lined my pool stick up with the white cue ball and strikes it.  

The cue ball ended up hitting at least four balls two of which were colored balls landing into the corner spots. Sam sat and watched as Dean looked over at me and huffed once again in a sort of defeat. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, Ya hear Dean.” Sam said.  

Dean only shooed him off with a wave of his hand, and continued to play. This cycle went on for a bit. I’d play and get at least one ball in every time. I’d back up and let Dean take over the pool table, I’d go sit with Sam drink whatever beer I had left. And wait.

Wait for the grunt of disappoint when Dean didn’t any of his striped balls into the pockets, or a “Hell Yeah!” from Dean when he got a ball pocketed. Dean’s macho stance whenever he did hit a ball was ridiculous. “You know you honestly make him work for things.” Sam said commenting on how much Dean was really putting effort into the game.

“Come on now Sam. That’ I say waving my hand over the figure of Dean farther away ‘That right there is all Dean. I have nothing to do with any of that.” I said not really wanting to believe that I may have that great of effect on Dean like Sam says.

Dean is great at pool. Dean doesn’t lose bets either. Sam has watched his entire life Dean play pool and win every game. So maybe Sam sees something that I can’t see, or something neither Dean or I can see. Yeah, maybe Sam's right, maybe I have just the great of an effect on Dean Winchester.  

We continued to play, each other us going back and forth from the pool table. Finally, the last-colored ball was sitting on the pool table, black eight ball was staring at me from across the table. taunting me to win the game, I lined my stick up with the cue ball and went through with a solid hit. It hit and within seconds the eight ball was in the pocket and I had won the game.

Meaning that Dean, oh poor Dean had lost the bet. Not a normal thing either for him to lose, but I keep thinking about what Sam said. I really hope that Sam was right for my own sake.  

Sam looked over at me grinning at me. Dean was too preoccupied with a rather younger woman sitting not too far from the bar. He said before he left that he was getting more drinks and that there was no way I was going to be able to hit that last ball in.  

All the happiness and excitement went out the window when I saw Dean flirting with her at the bar. His swagger and smirking face turned on to the max. It would have anyone weak to the knees.  

Sam's eyes followed mine. Even Sam didn’t know that I wanted to be with Dean. Nobody knows, and I’d like to think I don’t want anyone to know. Because if I’m the only person then I don’t have to listen to Sam try and force to tell him, or Dean push me away.... I don’t want any of that.  

Sam's eyes landed on his brother flirting his way into the woman’s pants. He looked over at me. I played a good game of pool, but I didn’t have a good poker face.  

Sam got up from his bar stool at the table. He stood next to me and bumped my shoulder with his own, biting the inside of cheek I took a deep breath in and looked over at Sam. “Dean tends to be blind to the good things in front of him.” Sam said.  

“It doesn’t matter. The happy moment is gone. He’s bored. So, I take the rest of my pride and leave with it. Because I’m sorry Sam, but Dean isn’t worth the heartbreak.” I said putting the pool stick down on the table and grabbing my jacket from the bar stool seat that I was sitting at.  

Sam shrugged his shoulders and apologized for Dean. “I’m sorry for him. Drive back to the bunker, and I’ll get him home without extra company.” He said, before kissing my temple.  

I smiled for a quick second at Sam before walking past Dean at the bar with the women straight out the door and to my car. I slammed my car door and rested my head against the steering wheel. Letting my body finally go through the emotions. Crying until my steering wheel was soaked.

Dean Pov:  

When I finally looked back over at the pool table the first thing, I noticed was no Y/n. Where’d she go? I got up from the bar and walked back with the drink that I had ordered.  

“Sam, where’s Y/n?” I asked, noticing the pool stick sitting on the table. Sam didn’t turn around at all, his eye very much focused on the sports game on the TV screen above. Setting the drinks on the table I asked again.  

“Sam, where’s Y/N?” He turned and just shook his head. “Dude seriously, her jacket isn’t here and her pool stick is sitting on the table.” I said still very confused as to what was truly going on.  

“Dude she left.” Sam said jugging the rest of his beer. “But we weren’t even done with the pool game.” I said a little huff falling out with my words. “Yeah, you were, Dean. Don’t play innocent like you weren’t feeling that girl up at the bar.... Oh, and by the way she won.” Sam said shortly.  

I walked over to the pool table noticing all the colored balls were gone pocketed in the corners of the pool table. ‘Damn that girl beat me’ I thought. Wait I don’t understand why’d she leave just like that. I didn’t say anything to her.  

“Oh my god Dean, I can hear you thinking. Let me guess you can’t figure out what you did wrong can you?” Sam said getting up and tucking his bar stool under the table. “Let’s go. I’m ready to go home.” Sam said. I really didn’t have any choice, so I chugging the rest of my beer, and throw some cash on the table before jogging to catch up to Sam.  

Y/n Pov  

I sat in the kitchen with a glass of whiskey. Sipping it ever so often, but hearing the bunker door open and then shut I decided to just chug the whiskey. It burnt at tad as it fell past my lips and down my throat.  

In walked Sam and then shortly Dean walked in. Sam was silent grabbing a water bottle from the fridge and giving me a kiss on the cheek before walking out of the kitchen.  

Again, it was silent. “So... Sam gave me your bet. I’ll do it. I just have a question’ Dean asked, I turned in the seat and faced him. Dean was leaning up against the kitchen island arms crossed his chest and his ankles crossed. ‘Why’d you leave the bar early.” He said finishing his sentence.  

Bewildered by how Dean thought he had done nothing wrong I sighed heavily and went to say something it couldn’t. The words not wanting to fall out of my mouth. If they fell out then that would mean that they were real.  

“If I dress you in that drag... I tell you afterwards. Deal?” I asked. Hoping Dean would let it go for tonight. I could have the last fun with Dean tomorrow and then I’ll tell him. “Okay fine. Tomorrow after you’re done.” He said pushing off the kitchen island and kissing me on my temple.  

Leaving me alone once again in the vast space of the kitchen.  

I won’t say that I didn’t have fun grabbing all the shit I needed for dressing Dean up in drag. Grabbing laced up combat heels, a black dress, and a shit ton of makeup. I wanted this to be fun. And how can I forget I grabbed a bleach blonde long wig to complete whatever look I was going for.  

Shooting Dean, a message to come to library he was there quicker than you could say apple pie. It was awkward at first since everything that had happened last night, but he had gotten over that pretty quickly. Dean sat down in front of me.

“Are you ready?” I questioned him. “I lost a bet. I really can’t pull myself outta this one can I.” He spoke. “So, I’m going to take that as yes.” I spoke. After almost three hours of me trying to do Deans drag makeup. Constantly having to tell him to close his eyes, or whatever other instruction I gave him. I was done with that part.  

He got up, “My face all the sudden feels every heavy.” He said gently patting his cheeks with his palm. “Don’t touch!” I said swatting his hand away. Dean raised his hands in defense.  

“Here!" I said shoving the bag with everything except the wig to him. Go change, just don’t look at the make-up, yeah.” I spoke. sitting back down in the chair with a plop.  

Dean getting dressed took another hour. He walked out the dress wasn’t tight around his figure and the lace stockings I had also bought he was wearing; the boots look good. He was little wobbly but otherwise he looked alright.  

He walked over to me. Reminding me just how much taller he was then me now that he had a pair of heels on. “Put your head down.” I said quietly but he followed my instructions. When Dean flipped his head back over, he had a wig on. The extra weight throwing his head off for a long second.  

As Dean tried to regain his head balance, I shot Sam a message asking him to come out the library and to have his camera ready. In a split-second Sam was there with his phone.

Dean stood-up his hands on his hips. “Yeah, laugh it up. I’m just going to say that I look like a bad ass bitch.” He said trying to balance on the heel on the combat boots I had grabbed.  

“Can we take pictures? We promise we won't share them.” I asked, getting for a harsh ‘no’, but instead the answer was yes. Sam took a few and so did I. then Sam waved to us saying he had reading he had to catch up on.  

“So... Now that I've done this, can you tell me why you left the bar early yesterday night.” Dean said reaching up to take off the wig. “Yeah, but first get out of the clothes because I bet, you’re uncomfortable and you come back here, and I’ll take all this shit off your face, agreed.” I spoke.  

He gave me a sideways glance, “Okay, don’t go running off okay.” He said as he got up wobbling and holding onto objects as he walked away. Only a few minutes he came back wearing only a pair of sweats and a pair of Christmas slippers I had gotten both of the boys.  

“Please take this stuff off my face, because to be honest with you I can feel it seeping into my skin.” Dean said. I laughed a little thinking about how realistic that explanation was to what it really felt like.  

I got to work. Wiping Deans eye gently with the cotton pad. “Can you please tell me now?” Dean said eye closed. The feeling of his eye not being on me as these words passed my lips was actually more helpful.  

“U mm... you left... and everything was going great, but... You... and then” I said skipping over words and frustrating myself. Dean reached out placing his hand on my wrist. “Y/n just slow down. One step at a time.” He spoke.  

Taking a deep breath in, I started again. “So, everything was going well, you were being your cocky self which doesn’t bother me. And then all the sudden it seemed like you got bored of us... actually, more like you got bored of me and the game. Like whenever it just you and me. Some younger chick takes your attention.” I said, grabbing a new cotton pad and starting to clean Deans other eye.

You’ve got to get the rest of your thought-out Y/n.  

“Dean I would do anything for you. I hope you know that. Literally anything I’d die for you to be able to save the world. But I don't much in return. I ask for you spend some of your precious time with you. I just want your attention. I’ll do anything for you to just want me.” I spoke  

I gasped and covered my mouth. Oops that part wasn’t supposed to come out. I finished in eyes. He opened them and grabbed my wrist before I could grab another cotton pad.  

“Do you really mean everything you just said.” He asked, I kept my eyes the floor suddenly finding that much more interesting than Dean’s emerald green eyes. Or his amazing freckles. I felt a touch of Deans hand on my chin, forcing me to look at him.  

“Did you mean it Y/n?” Dean asked again a sterner tone falling into the words. “Yes, Dean.” I said a frown falling onto my features. So many thoughts running through my head but none of them were the next things that Dean said to me.  

“Glad, because I want you too.” He spoke. Thank god Dean finger was still under my chin because if not my jaw would have landed on the floor between our legs. “So, the flirting?” I asked in a hushed voice. Not trusting my own words at current moment.  

Dean face contorted and he took a moment to think. “Those girls... they were the only way I thought I could get over you, but I realize now that I’m a complete and utter asshole. A blind asshole. I’m sorry Y/n.” Dean said

His hand migrating to my cheek and his thumb rubbing right under my eye in a comforting way. I leaned into the touch. “You are an asshole. Just neither of us knew what the other was thinking.” I said touching out forehead together.  

“Can you get the rest of this makeup off, please, Y/n?” Dean asked. I rolled my eyes and pulled away from his forehead.” Way to ruin the moment Winchester.” I said before I started cleaning up the rest of Deans face.

‘Yeah, I know, but I really wanted to kiss you properly without any makeup on.” He said smashing his lips into mine, and holding down tight onto my waist and forearm. When he pulled away needing air he asked “We’re both idiots, but can we be idiots together?”  I smiled and shrugged my shoulder before lunging in for another Dean Winchester kiss.

“Wait, you don’t care that I don’t look like the other girls the you flirt with?” I asked shyness overcoming me. My grasp on the idea that Dean would even want me was eating away at my brain. Giving me a very perplexed look, and scrunching his eyebrows.  

“Look I know that it looks like I have a type.” Dean said grabbing into one of my thighs. “But, that’s a different Dean, that’s hopefully in the past. I know that I have a track record for only bring home blonde skinny women, but I... I want you and your body. I want all your thick parts’ he said squeezing my thigh. ‘I want your crazy bed head in the morning. I want you to continue trying to beat me at pool, I want you to be with me. I want so many things, but all of them are because of you.” Dean said pausing to let me take in his words. “I want whatever you want to give me. I don’t care what your body looks like because that’s not what made me attracted to you doll. Your heart, mind, and soul are what made me want you. I hope that’s okay” He said.  

I smiling and sniffed my nose trying to stop the cascade of tears that was about to break. “Yeah, that’s okay Dean.” I said grasping Deans strong body for a hug.  

Completed on: 04/11/2021

[ayo-cowbelly]

Maybe - Captain Rex x Reader

*All POV’s will be female unless requested otherwise*

So.... I’m in the mood for angst. This idea has been in my head for days, and I’ve been listening to a lot of instrumental soundtracks lately, which only fueled this (lots of Across the Stars and Burying the Dead). Eventually I decided to just sit down and write it.  Got pretty into italics with this one. It’s kinda long. Also this is the first time I’ve posted something like this, so I hope you like it :)

Part two can be found here!

Y/n: Your name

Y/l/n: Your last name

masterlist

***

You walked the never-ending halls of the Resolute, a neutral expression on your face. Your mental shields were strong, or as strong as they could be. You weren’t really sure if you were fooling anyone. 

Hopefully you were, because if people (namely, other Jedi) sensed your inner turmoil, things could go horribly wrong; after all, Jedi don’t feel this way. They don’t spend their nights crying silently, hoping that nobody hears. They don’t simultaneously curse and cherish their memories with a particular person. Jedi do not have broken hearts. 

Because a broken heart could mean you broke up with someone. And to do that, it usually means you fell in love. 

And Jedi do not fall in love. 

Except... when they do.

*** 

It started two years ago, when the war had just begun. When you had first stepped foot onto the Venator-class starship that would soon become your home. When you met him.  Your captain, CT-7567. Rex. 

“Hello, Captain.”

“General.” 

“Sorry, do you have a preferred name? Seems we should get to know each other a bit.” 

“It’s Rex, General.” 

“Well, Rex, I look forward to working with you.”

“And I you, Sir.” 

That’s where it all started- and eventually ended.

***

The war was hard on everyone. You watched as the people you knew so well started to- well, change. Anakin seemed angrier, Obi-Wan more stressed, and you… you seemed, for lack of a better word… hollow. The men dying all around you, your order seemingly breaking (you were never meant to be soldiers, yet you lead men who had never known anything else), it felt like you were being crushed on the inside. Yet, you had him. 

He was there. 

Whether it was quiet talks in the night, locked eyes in the briefing room, or a lingered touch in a turbulent LAAT/i, he was there. The war escalated and the world changed and sometimes it felt like your soul was on fire with pain- but he was there, until he wasn’t. 

Eventually it really was too much. The war put a strain on an already fragile relationship (Jedi are not meant to fall in love). The threat of you being caught had always loomed heavily on both your heads. You would be expelled from the only family you’d ever known… and he would be court-martialed, or worse- decommissioned. The thought of the man you loved being cast aside and killed for following his heart plagued you with fear. 

Fear was not the Jedi way.

You started fighting. Little things, that sometimes exploded into larger issues. The survivors’ guilt and the stress of so many battles (you never knew what the next day would bring; could one of your names be added to the list of remembrances? You didn’t know… and didn’t want to, ever) made you both edgy and it was hard to discuss it without conflict. 

Your relationship burned bright for so long until it crumbled. 

“So, that’s it then? A year, and then… we’re just… done?” 

“I think that would be best, Sir.” 

“Don’t! Don’t call me that! Not now! Right now, I’m just Y/n, and you’re just Rex. You and me! What happened to that?” 

“It’s not right, General-” “Stop calling me that!” 

“It’s what you are! You’re the general, and I’m the captain. Jedi and clone. That’s all it ever should have been, and it has to go back to that.” 

You were supposed to be the composed one… but your emotions were spiraling and gripped your heart. “I won’t let it.” 

“You don’t get to decide that, Sir.” 

“Rex, I-” You choked out, but couldn’t finish. You didn’t even know what to say. What would fix it? 

You just watched as he put his helmet back on and left your room quietly. 

With your head in your hands, you tried, really tried, to repress the tears- until you couldn’t. 

***

If your Co-General and Commander noticed your changed demeanor, they were kind enough not to mention it. You and Anakin used to have a game, of sorts, of who could get away with the craziest maneuvers on the battlefield without an injury- whether it be jumping out of a flying LAAT/i, taking on a whole droid squad alone, or grabbing onto a rocket droid like a speeder. You and Ahsoka would team-up and tease Anakin together pretty often around the ship. But that all changed. 

You wouldn’t take on as many droids alone- something Kix was probably happy about. The crazier ideas all came from Anakin, the more “sane” (as the rest of the legion would call it) plans came from you. Ahsoka would poke fun at Anakin while you watched with a forced almost-smile. Actually, that forced content on your face was probably your most common expression these days.

Life took on a grayer hue. 

So, you worked on shielding and repressing, keeping your pain hidden until the dead hours of the night. 

***

Were the hallways smaller, now? It felt like it. Every turn, every corridor, no matter where you went, it felt like he was always there. Somehow, you ran into him everywhere, with a shallow nod and the slightest of glances. 

 2 years. Strangers. Friends. Lovers… Then strangers again. 

It was a cruel cycle. 

***

For a while, you had thought about requesting a battalion to lead alone. At the beginning of the war, you had been assigned to co-lead the 501st due to your familiarity with Anakin- both Crechemates and eventually Padawans with your masters as good friends, you spent a lot of time together growing up. The Council felt it would be good to have their resident loose-cannon lead a legion with another, to make sure he didn’t go too off the rails.

 What the Council hadn’t realized was that yes, while you were the more rational of the pair, you enjoyed Anakin’s crazy plans- most of the time. Sometimes, they really were insane, which was where you stepped in. 

A bonus of being assigned to the same legion was that you met Ahsoka. The young Togruta sometimes felt like your own Padawan, and you adored her. She was endlessly curious and brave, and wise beyond her years. And you grew even more proud of her as she grew up. 

Now, she was older, and more experienced- and as she came into her own, you realized you weren’t always needed anymore. Granted, the missions were sometimes shorter and had more solid planning due to having an extra Jedi General around, but your presence was no longer a necessity. Anakin and Ahsoka would do just fine without you. Besides, leading a legion as large as the 501st meant you had to watch more and more clones be taken with every battle. The longer the war went on, the more recruits there were (who seemed to be getting younger all the time). 

And even though it was selfish, with your own legion you wouldn’t have to be around Him all the time. Maybe it’d be nice, to be away from him; maybe you could heal without the pain of it all filling you when you saw him. Maybe.

You could handle your own battalion. You were capable, and more than ready. You knew this, but didn’t necessarily like it. 

***

Eventually, you reached a decision. It was the last thing you wanted, to leave Him; you loved him fiercely, still. Yet, leaving was what you needed. You had to be at your best to lead the troops, and lately, your best was sloppy. It was time to reign in your emotions and gain control again. 

Of course, nothing was final, but the feeling of something ending echoed around you. 

The last time eating in the mess with the men who almost felt like brothers. 

The last time going through a briefing with your Co-General, watching Admiral Yularen’s face fill with exasperation and irritation as Anakin laid out a daring plan. 

The last time you met His warm Golden-Brown eyes in the halls. 

Your comm chirped, and you ducked into an empty storage closet to take the call. You were met with Masters Yoda and Windu’s holographic forms. 

“Something you wanted to discuss, you had, young Y/l/n?” 

“Yes, Master Yoda.” 

***

A week later, you stood in the briefing room with the usual command crew: Anakin, Ahsoka, Admiral Yularen, and Him. 

Deep breaths, Y/n. In, and out. “I called this meeting because I have some… news, and I thought you should be the first to know.” You glanced around at them, swallowing. “I’ve requested to lead my own battalion- and it’s been granted.” Letting that sink in, you continued: “I’m leaving at 0800 tomorrow morning, in my fighter. I’ll head to Coruscant, where I’ll meet the men, and then we’ll ship out sometime next week.” 

Silence. 

Anakin was the first to speak. “What do you mean you’re leaving?”

“I’m getting my own battalion. I requested it a few days ago.” 

“Why?” You heard the growing anger in your friend’s voice and decided to tread carefully.

“Anakin, you don’t need me here anymore. Ahsoka’s more than qualified to lead the 501st with you, and with the war- there’s more and more troops who need leading, and not enough Jedi to do it. But I can, and I have to; It’s my duty. The Council agreed with me.” 

“Y/n, when did you talk to the Council about this?” 

“A few days ago- but it’s been on my mind for a while.” You said gently. You didn’t meet His eyes, didn’t even look over there; if you did, your resolve would crumble. You just kept your gaze on Anakin, occasionally looking to Ahsoka. She looked surprised, and a bit sad, but understanding. Anakin looked… well, it was wise to be cautious of your tone. 

“Do you know where you’ll ship off to?” Ahsoka asked politely. 

“Not yet, but I’ve heard that it might be Cato Neimodia, or maybe Anaxes. I can’t be sure, though.” You looked down. “I just thought you all should know first.” 

“Well, best of luck, General. It’s been an honor.” Admiral Yularen nodded at you, then went out to the bridge. Eventually, Anakin and Ahsoka left too, the latter guiding her Master with a soft hand on his arm. 

That left you and the Captain. Alone, for the first time in weeks. 

“So… your own battalion. That’s… big news,” He said quietly. “I know you’ll do well.” 

“Thanks, Rex,” You practically whispered. “I’ve enjoyed our time together,” You met his eyes briefly, barely keeping the floodgate of emotions at bay. “I’ll miss working with you.” I love you. I love you more than anything. 

He nodded. “And I you, General.” 

***

You left that next morning, with your men watching from the hangar. His presence, the one you had treasured and held onto like a lifeline... the one that got you through the worst of it all, the one you had loved (and still did, so much), stayed behind, slowly fading from the forefront of your mind. 

It’s for the best. 

Maybe you’d start to heal. 

Maybe. 

Fin.