#Her out and he certainly wouldn’t go on and on about his own problems now would he

[dykevanny]

every time people misinterpret the ar emails I go even more insane

[savanir]

DP x DC prompt [3]

during one of the final psych evals at Arkham right before he gets to be released, the whole thing wrapped up so tidy, just a little relapse which involved a robbery. Getting sent back to Arkham, but he got to stay at the asylum so long that he no longer has to serve a prison sentence, score!

But during that eval his overseeing psychiatrist recommended him to have a change of scenery, some fresh non polluted air.

Riddler was rather convinced the guy was making this recommendation to everyone in Arkham in their own weird way to convince them to just leave Gotham and become someone else's problem. should he notify Batman about it somehow? nah, it’ll be more interesting to see how this is gonna turn out in the long run.

But can he leave the state? Can he even leave the city? he never really bothered to look into it, at least not legally, up until now if he felt he needed to leave for one of his plans he just did it.

Turns out he can, it’s a whole hassle and a half though, first a judge and then a probation officer and he’s pretty sure both were like “what the hell is this psychiatrist guy thinking!?” but at the same time, shrink probably knows what he’s doing (WRONG) so he’s allowed to go visit out of state family or whatever.

he had to wear this nice ankle monitor though, Wayne Enterprises™ tech, not overly bulky but still very present. real fancy, and a fun extra challenge heh.

now as for a good reason to leave New Jersey he’s going to need distant relatives, and he finds some, great grandpa walker also has a son, who had a son who had a daughter Madeline, who married some guy Jack Fenton, and she lives somewhere out in the boonies Illinois. great he’ll visit her.

far enough away in all sense of the word that there is no way she knows anything about him. it would be best to call her first though, be polite about it.

“hello, you have reached Fenton works, this is Maddie speaking” 

“Riddle me this-” ah whoops, habit, oh whatever, “we don’t share parents, but certainly a part of your life, from laughter to strife. Who am I?”

there is a pause …  he’s going to be a bit disappointed if she hangs up if he’s honest.

“cousins~” comes the cheery reply.

“correct! the name is Edward Nygma, we are distantly related you and I and well-”

“oh you simply must come visit!” 

well this was rather easy, perhaps a little too easy, but she lives in the midwest so maybe just going with whatever some guy says over the phone is normal there? stranger danger not really a thing in a small town where everyone knows everyone?

things start to make a little more sense once he gets there and he’s starting to think some things might run in the family. like a preference for the colour green and weird hyperfixations and genius bordering on insanity. Though that remains to be seen, Jack does not seem like a very bright light after his very enthusiastic welcome.

their kids however are observant and sharp. young Jasmine is wasting no time trying to psychoanalyze him. and the boy, Danny, he had not really meant to and he swears he’s sticking with calling the kid Danny so he wouldn’t seem overly familiar, but he might have called him little bird a couple times now.

but that’s all whatever, he’s playing nice here. and he doesn’t even have to worry about his eccentricities tripping him up because this place is insane.

There actually is a local teen vigilante active but he seems about as loved as he’s disliked. and the ghost boy’s enemies are basically all his own kind, which another crazy thing to now know about. ghost. they are real actually, how is Gotham not completely overrun? and how do they even work? and where do they keep coming from?

Edward might be getting a little sidetracked here. He had fully intended to sneakily get his next big game plan underway all the way out here, ankle monitor be damned. but he hasn’t made any progress at all.

Instead he’s been listening to Madeline and Jack to maybe figure out what the deal is with these ectoplasmic entities, he has to know, at this point he might go crazier if he doesn’t. 

He’s making Jasmine promise him not to get her doctorate in Gotham, he’s going back and forth with space riddles with Danny.

so yeah the whole thing kinda just became a vacation, maybe the psychiatrist had the right idea after all? hmm nah, probably not. but this is fun. He’s thinking about recommending this place to some of the others.

It's different enough to get the vacation feel, but enough crazy shit happens to make it all feel like home.

it is not until Maddie wants to talk with him about potentially switching the position of godfather of Danny to him rather than some weird rich friend of theirs that Edward realizes he might have lost the plot somewhere

Apparently the little bird basically begged them with a powerpoint presentation on how he likes Edward so much more than that Vladimir guy. 

And honestly, the fellow sounds like a Dracula Lutho so even if it’s kinda sad Edward can understand why he’d be considered a better option. Even if the guy has more money and a huge company that makes him said money. And it’s not like the Fentons know about his Riddler activities.

Thinking it over, Edward does think that Danny would like Gotham and Wayne has that space program thing right? The kid is definitely smart enough for that (Nygma certified), and yeah Edward does quite like their space themed back and forth. So, fuck it, why not, what is the worst that could happen?

He doubts Maddie and Jack are gonna kick it any time soon anyway out here in the boonies, it’s just a title thing, a stamp of approval or something.

he should have known he was going to eat those words later… he had this whole beautifully elaborate trap set up for the whole Batclan, and he was just getting to the good part when his phone went off.

Had to put the whole thing on pause cause that particular contact wasn’t gonna get ignored. He did promise to be available.

If the whole thing he had planned now went tits up he could at the very least laugh later at the reactions of the bats as he told them to “hold up one second, I have to take this.” while they were all in various perilous positions. 

Sadly he did have to go, he had a very distressed godson to pick up.

[everyonewooeverywhere]

MDNI 18+ BLOG -> ageless blogs and minors WILL BE BLOCKED

pairing ✭ mechanic!mingi x f!reader

synopsis ✭ when a random girl keeps shamelessly flirting with mingi, despite his many attempts to ward her off, he needs a knight dressed his own sweater and a black mini skirt to fend her off.

content/genre ✭ smut (18+ MDNI)

word count ✭ 2.5k

warnings ✭ smut, please MDNI (seriously), clothed sex (mostly), on top of his car (🫣), fingering, minor jealousy (from mc), spanking, despite the title there's really no dom/sub dynamic (just mc trying to protect her man)

✭✭✭✭

You noticed her immediately when you pulled your car into the shop. Of course you did, she was chatting it up with your boyfriend with a hand reaching out to grab his arm. He pulled back in obvious disinterest, but it irked you nonetheless that another woman was after your man. You knew him well enough to know that he’d definitely told her he had a girlfriend. Despite this, she certainly seemed to think that she was his type. With her grease-stained cargo pants and tight tank top you could tell she worked with cars just like him. 

So what the fuck did she need here? You wondered to yourself. 

You hadn’t yet gotten out of the car and continued to watch them from a distance when someone knocked on your window. Yunho grinned down at you from outside the car. You waved at him, slightly embarrassed that he’d caught you staring so intently at the sight in front of you. He gave you a friendly wave as you stepped out of the car. 

When you got out of the car, you saw her give you a glance over and roll her eyes. Oh you were gonna fucking lose it. It was obvious from the way she had looked at you that she was judging your appearance, and you got the vibe that she would give you the same treatment that most other men you give you if you came to them with a car problem. Like you were some stupid little girl who would be easy to upsell. Did you know anything about cars, not really, but you had a sexy mechanic boyfriend to do that shit for you so what was the need? 

“She’s been here every day this week,” Yunho informed you, clearly aware of your annoyance toward the woman giving bedroom eyes at Mingi, “claims something different is wrong every time she comes in, but when she gets here everything works fine. Then she never leaves. She’s luck it’s been a slow week, or he would have fully lost it by now”

You scoff quietly, “have you tried to ‘help’ her?”

“Yes,” he sighs, “but she always dodges my help and finds a way to drag him back over.”

Of course she does. 

“Anyway, is anything wrong with your car?”

“Of course not,” you laugh, “but, if you wanna take a look, be my guest.”

Yes, you were fully aware of the irony of you and this woman having identical motives when pulling your cars into the shop, but at least you were always a welcome surprise who didn’t go around trying to sleep with other people’s boyfriends.

“Sure. I’ll look,” Yunho grabbed your keys from you. “Um, by the way, I can tell you he certainly wouldn’t mind if you went over and saved him. You know, assert your dominance.”

That line made you giggle. You brushed out your black mini skirt and checked your lip gloss in the side mirror of your car. Luckily, you were feeling incredibly cute today, in your possibly too short skirt and sweater that totally belonged to your boyfriend. The heels on your feet were a gift from him as well, and you always felt sexy hearing the sound they made when you walked. And that was the noise they made as you made your way over to them.

She saw you first. “I’m sorry, can we help you? Isn’t he helping you out?” She asked, clearly annoyed, pointing her finger at Yunho who was checking out your tires. Clearly trying to ward you off, and you got the idea that she knew exactly who you were.

Her acknowledgment of you though, made Mingi turn around. Finally seeing you for the first time since you’d stepped foot in his shop today. He was visibly relieved as he took a step toward you, “hey baby, I didn’t realize you were coming in today.”

He grinned when you placed a manicured hand on his chest. He wouldn’t bring it up now, but he fucking loved when your jealous side came out. And he knew that this specific touch’s purpose was to stake your claim.

“I missed you,” you sighed, stepping closer, “you’ve been so busy this week, and I haven’t seen you at all.”

His hands found your waist and pulled you all the way into him, “I know baby. I’m so sorry.” He placed a chaste kiss on your cheek, “I've had a lot of customers waste my time this week, and I just can’t catch a break.”

You giggle as the girl next to you scoffs, “Wow Mingi, you didn’t tell me your girlfriend was so,” she eyed you up and down again but, before she can finish what was bound to be a wonderful insult, you cut her off.

“Oh so you knew he had a girlfriend and were still all over him like a bitch in heat.”

She laughed at you, "he doesn't mind. Right, Min? Sorry sweetheart, you're not as special as you might think. Maybe, he needs someone a little more real, not some plastic bitch who doesn't even know how to change her own tires."

Sensing that you were about to fully unleash yourself onto this fucking cunt, Mingi put a soothing hand on your shoulder and spoke sternly, “Get out.”

She gaped at him, “Wha-”

“You can fucking fix your car yourself, if there’s even anything wrong with it, but make sure you see Yunho on your way out. He’ll charge you before you leave.”

“You can’t be serious.” 

“Of course I’m serious. You’ve wasted a lot of fucking time for me this week with your perfectly fine car. My time is precious, and since you wasted it, I'm gonna need you to pay up.”

He looked back over at your car, “Yunho, please deal with this.”

The other man’s shoulders slumped, clearly not keen on dealing with this woman, but he made no effort to argue. You made a mental note to bring him lunch next time you came in to make up for it.

Mingi grabbed the hand that’s still on his chest and leaned down to your ear, “come with me.”

✭✭✭✭

“God, I’ve missed you so fucking much baby,” he breathed into you neck as he placed kisses on it. 

You smiled and placed a hand in his hair, gripping lightly onto his dark hair, “I’ve missed you, too.”

You were in the back of the shop, where Mingi kept his own car. You didn’t know the make or the model, but you knew it was a sexy car. And you were well acquainted with it. From it pulling up outside your apartment for the occasional lunch date. To late nights in the backseat when you both knew you couldn’t make it to a bed. And then to moments like these. Days in the shop where your boyfriend wanted nothing more than to see you all on display for him on top of the hood.

“Why didn’t you tell me someone was bothering you, Min?” you pouted as his hands fiddled with the edge of your (his) sweater.

“Oh, y/n I can handle myself, baby, you don’t need to worry yourself with stuff like that.”

Sighing, you placed a hand on his cheek, “you know I just wanna help and be there for you. Will you at least tell me next time?”

“Of course. I’m sorry I didn’t bring it up. I promise I’ll tell you next time. Ok?”

You nodded as you moved your hand from his cheek to the back of his head, pulling him back down to your lips. His hands started wandering as the two of you explored each other’s mouths. He removed a hand that was tangled in your hair and caressed your neck. His mouth followed the hand, leaving plenty of dark spots all over your pretty neck.

When he reached for the hem of the sweater you were wearing, you grabbed at his hand, “I don’t wanna get naked in here.”

And you really didn’t. As much as you loved your boyfriend, getting fully undressed anywhere but the bedroom was a line you very rarely crossed. Especially in a place as unkempt and naturally messy as the shop he spends most of his days in. You were a woman of at least a little class, but keeping your clothes on didn’t mean that sex was off the table. Not at all, actually.

“Ok, love,” he moved his hands to fiddle with the edge of your skirt, “it’s a good thing you wore such a tiny skirt today then, right?” 

You nodded, biting your lip to suppress your smile, “you can take my panties off if you really want to, though.” You said through a whisper.

He didn’t need any convincing because in the next moment he’d slipped your panties off your legs and put them in his pocket. His hands were under your skirt now. One gripping your waist and holding you in place. The other teasingly stroking your inner thigh.

“Mingi, please,” you begged breathily, desperately trying to shift closer to his hand, but the other one on your waist was completely preventing that.

He smirked at your desperation, “patience, baby. I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

As a man of his word, his thumb brushed your clit, and you let out a whine when he pushed two fingers into you. He worked over your clit with his thumb as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. 

“Oh, Min–” you moaned and gripped his shoulders tight.

The hand from your waist moved to grab your throat as he leaned close to your ear, “God, baby, you moan so pretty for me. You’ll let me know when you’re close, yeah?”

You could barely get out a breath “yes” before he slid another finger into your already soaking cunt. Your grip on his shoulders tightened. Wrapping a leg around his back, you arched your back, trying every option to get as close to him as possible. You lost all control of your hips and ground yourself into his hand in sync with his own movements.

When you felt the familiar knot in your stomach, you whined, and your eyes fluttered shut, “I’m close! So close.” 

“Let go for me baby. I got you.”

As you reached your climax, you wrapped your legs around his waist. 

“Good girl,” his lips reached your own as you came down from your high. He pulled you off the hood of his car and set you on the ground. He looked you up and down, admiring you fully. He lifted a hand to caress your face and his thumb brushed over your cheek. Smiling, he said, “you always do so good for me baby. Turn around for me, yeah?”

You turned around quickly, eager for what you knew was coming next. Without him even having to ask, you leaned over the hood of his car. Giving him just the view he wanted. His hands were quick to flip up your skirt and smooth his hands over your ass. He gripped one cheek in his hand, and you braced yourself on your forearms. When he let go, you wiggled your ass and looked back over your shoulder. Challenging him with your eyes.

He brought his hand back down on your ass, slapping it. When you let out an obvious and loud moan, he smirked and leaned down over you, “you’re so fucking impatient baby, are you really so worked up? Let me help you out. Does that sound good?”

“Please, Mingi,” you begged (god he loved when you couldn’t stop begging), “I need you!”

“Where do you need me, baby?”

“Inside,” you moaned when he slapped your ass again.

“You want my cock, baby?” You could hear him unzipping his pants and the rustle of fabric behind you. Fucking finally.

All you could do was nod desperately and look back at him over your shoulder with begging eyes. He couldn’t fucking hold it together when you gave him those eyes. So desperate and needy that he could almost see tears. And the pout on your lips was the cherry on top.

You braced yourself again when he gripped his hips with one hand. When he finally pushed into you, you moaned out softly.

With one hand gripping your waist hard enough to bruise and the other playing with your clit, he thrust into you. His car shook, and you struggled to hold yourself up but, god, it felt so good. After a week of missing him constantly, you couldn’t think of anything but how full you felt with each thrust. He couldn’t help himself, either from telling you how good you felt.

Shit, baby, you just keep getting wetter.

You just love it when I fill you up like this, don’t you?

Oh, you’re close, baby. I can feel you closing around me so good.

Fuuuuck, god angel I’m almost there. Can I fill you up?

“Yes, yes, yes, please!” you cried. Your loud and pornographic moans bounced off the walls as you reached your climax.

He followed soon after, filling you to the brim. You felt so warm and flushed. Your eyes fluttered in post-orgasm bliss. Panting, he flipped you back over onto your back and helped you sit up. He kissed you one more time, “thank you for coming to visit.”

“Of course,” you laughed softly, “I mean if you reward me like this everytime, then I’ll just come in every day like that bitch earlier, but I can’t promise I’ll pay you for your time.”

“Oh baby, you being here is enough, and your pretty pussy is the perfect payment,” he moved a finger back down to your core and pushed his cum back inside of you.

“Mmmm,” you ran hand through his hair, nails scraping his scalp, “as much as I’d love to go again, you closed an hour ago, and Yunho’s probably waiting for you to lock up.”

Mingi groaned as he finished putting his pants back on. He lifted you off the car, “can I have my panties back please?” You reached a hand out to him.

“Oh,” he laughed as he reached into his pocket to give them back to you.

✭✭✭✭

“Did she leave?” Mingi asked his friend who was finishing up putting new tires on your car. So maybe you actually did need something done with it. 

The other man laughed, “oh she left alright. She tried to stick around, but when she heard you two having fun back there she took off. Kinda felt bad for her honestly.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed at his sympathy even though you felt an immense sense of satisfaction at knowing you had fended her off so easily. You had “asserted your dominance” to quote Yunho.

Mingi placed a hand on your lower back, “don’t worry baby, we won’t be seeing her for a while.” He turned to Yunho, “You can go man, I’ll finish locking up. Thanks for your help.”

“Good night man, have fun locking up.” Clearly implying that you might distract him from such a task. 

When Yunho was gone, it was only seconds before you were backed into the back door of your own car, and Mingi reached around you to open the door. “Get in, baby.” 

You could only giggle as you climbed in, pulling him in after you by the collar of his t-shirt. When he shut the door behind him, he leaned over you, “just one more. Ok, baby?”

“Ok,” you responded breathlessly. Knowing full well you would be under him in your bed soon enough.

✭✭✭✭

note ✭ thank you for reading. i'm trying my best over here, but university is kicking my ass. so i appreciate you reading what is essentially a coping mechanism 😀🥲

also this was so nerve racking to post so SEND ME VALIDATION (if you want 😙)

srsly though, thanks for reading! feel free to lmk what you think. reblogs and comments are much appreciated!

have a wonderful day!

mwah~

[deansapplepie]

Whatcha lookin’ at? (Drabble)

Warnings: none.

A/N: maybe ooc Daryl, I can’t say certainly.

The Quarry, Atlanta

It was a scorching hot morning at the quarry. 1 month after the outbreak or maybe a little more. The community that started small at the quarry, now had a lot of people and everyone had their own function. The function division was a little sexist, but you wouldn’t complain unless someone made some harm against you, or your dad. Not that you were dangerous or anything.

You were squatting near the water washing clothes with the other women, not your favorite chore you should say. You never thought you’d miss a washing machine so much in your life, but the task was bearable, the other ladies were nice and… having him some meters away fishing and being able to steal some glances made it all better.

Your legs were paining from squatting for a long time, so you decided to stand up for a little and you couldn’t just control your eyes as they wandered to where they’ve been wandering for the last month… to the charming grumpy handsome redneck. Daryl Dixon. He wasn’t one to speak much, but when he did you could expect 2 things a pretty smart remark that no one would expect from someone like him or a sassy remark that would annoy most of people, but made you all tingly and bothered.

“You’re staring, darling. Again.” Jacqui said by your side.

“I’m not.” You answered, cheeks instantly blushing.

It was well known among the women about your crush on the redneck, they saw how you looked at him, most of them disapproved it, not that they had any saying in it, but they new a Dixon wasn’t the kind of men Dale would ever want for you. Just a few of them didn’t judge you, Carol was too busy with her problems to care about anything else, Jacqui wasn’t one to judge anyone and Amy… she was a sweetheart, young and a little rebellious, so she always thought ‘why not?’.

While you were lost in your thoughts looking at Daryl, the way his muscles tensed while fishing, the sweat running on his tanned skin burnt by the sun…

He looked back at you.

He started walking in your direction.

“Fuck.” You squatted instantly again and put your attention back to the clothes. “He saw it, please pretend I wasn’t looking at him.”

“There’s no way of pretending, both of you are always on a staring contest.” Amy frankly spoke.

“What?” You asked, nope you were always the only one staring.

You got no answer because as soon as the blonde opened her mouth to answer you, a certain redneck approached you.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” He asked his feet planted by your side.

You didn’t answer. Maybe if you pretended it wasn’t with you he would just ignore and leave.

“Horvath, I’m talking to ya.” He squatted, SQUATTED, by your side. “Why d’ya keep staring? Have ya never seen a dirty redneck?”

Shit. He wasn’t going to give up, you pissed him.

Silence.

You couldn’t dare saying anything, but before he could open his mouth and pressure you one more time, the words simply left your mouth.

“You’re handsome.” You looked at him and you almost fell with your ass on the ground just by looking at his eyes deep as an ocean, but his reflexes were faster than gravity and he got a hold of your arm supporting you.

Silence.

That was his turn to have no words. Were you joking?

“I like looking at pretty things.” His hand got a tight grip on your arm, it didn’t hurt, but instead sent tingles all over you.

Silence.

He didn’t know if he felt flattered or offended. First of all he didn’t think he was handsome and secondly no men would like to be called pretty, but he couldn’t feel mad when it was coming out of your sweet pretty lips.

“And what does your daddy think about this?” He didn’t know what to say, so the first thing left his mouth was an intent of telling you that your father wouldn’t approve it.

In an act of boldness you said “I don’t know, I never asked him if he thinks you’re cute too.”

Silence.

You thought you had screwed things bad and if he didn’t hate you before, he’d now for sure, but your worries dissipated as soon as a smirk appeared at his lips, almost a smile, his pointed canine showing slightly at the side. “Ya’re fun.”

“Sometimes I am.” You answered.

He grunted, when what he wanted to say was from now on you would probably need to bear with his staring too, not that he didn’t before, there was just one thing about you that made it impossible for him to not take glances at you constantly. He wanted to dislike you, like everyone else, but even if Merle was disgusting to you, you still treated him nice, even if his brother was a jerk.

He got up and before living you go be tortured by the other women he said one last thing.

“I’ll see ya ‘round sunshine.”

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[maidenvault]

The red flags are so blatant in what we see of Mother Aniseya’s coven, is it not registering for anyone else that Sol got too emotionally involved but his instincts might have been correct?

Mae and Osha don’t know anyone but this small community. No other children, no friends. Apparently they’re not even supposed to venture outside by themselves. They don’t have their own lives, brought up to basically think of themselves as one person.

Aniseya’s the only one who truly loves them and cares about Osha’s feelings. When everyone’s discussing her leaving, the others only talk about what it will mean for them and their future. They just want her power.

Aniseya singles out the youngest of the Jedi to control with her magic as a threat when they haven’t done anything hostile. It’s understandable they feel a bit threatened and I see why the Council says they overstepped, but Koril is ready from the time they show up to go to their camp and kill them all.

Why are they teaching the girls to fight like it’s so serious? If these women all just want to live here unbothered, what are they actually preparing them for? What was it going to mean when the ritual was completed with both of them, and was it going to do something irreversible?

Aniseya tells Osha that others don’t accept their ways so she wouldn’t like the outside world like she thinks. (A manipulation tactic in cults.) But with the Jedi’s perspective, it’s now clear everything they said when they interrupted the ceremony was basically a pretense for checking on the welfare of the girls and they don’t care about these witches practicing another Force-based religion or training kids. So if they’ve got this persecution complex it could certainly be because they’re actually doing something wrong. (Or just because they want to keep the power of this vergence all to themselves, all while saying they’re not like other girls 'cause to them the Force isn’t something you use or own.)

Most alarmingly once Aniseya’s dead, none of them try to get to the children in the burning building. They just keep attacking the Jedi for what they did.

Of course lots of viewers will say that many of these concerning things are problems with how the Jedi treat children, too. And that’s probably meant to be the point, that there are different ways of looking at it. But it’s telling how practically nobody’s even addressing them. This show certainly reads differently depending on the bias you come to it with.

And none of these things really give the Jedi the right to remove these children from their family. I don’t think Sol’s concern comes from nowhere, but whether Osha's safe here is a separate question from whether she should be a Jedi and not necessarily in their purview. But he’s not using clear judgment because of his feelings so he ends up just hurting Osha, surely worse than anything her own mother was going to put her through. Attachment is selfish love, it's not good actually!

[sansaorgana]

Hello, I have a request for Benny Cross:

Benny had a bad habit of telling reader that he would just leave so that she didn’t have to worry about him anymore, and at some point she distances herself because she thinks he’s really going to leave some day and it will hurt less if she starts getting used to his absence. Benny’s not having it though and he realizes that it stresses her every time he says that so he reassures her. Please & thank you 🙏🏼💗

hello! thank you for your request 💐 honestly, he's manipulating emotionally so much when he's like that lol 🙄 but we love him anyway, right? 😉

I had to close my requests for now because I got so many 🙏🏻

“I should just go,” Benny would always say when you mentioned how worried you were about him riding the motorbike and getting involved in all kinds of trouble – whether with the gang or on his own. “You won’t have to take care of me, won’t have to worry about me then.”

When he said that for the first time, you were assuring him that it was not what you wanted – holding onto him, caressing his head as you pressed his face between your breasts like a mother would to her son.

But a few times later, you realised that it was an emotional manipulation on his side. It was his way of shutting you up and making you feel guilty for being worried about the things you had every right to be worried about. You loved him – and yes, you knew what he was like when you chose to be his girl and you didn’t want to tame him but… You were worried. Because you loved him and didn’t want to see him in jail or hurt. Was it that difficult to understand? 

And now it happened again – he had gotten himself into a fight, half of his face bruised and fresh cuts on his forehead and a cheek. Benny was sitting on the edge of the bed and you were next to him, patching him up. Clearing the wounds carefully with pursed lips, trying not to say anything that would anger him further because he was still pretty riled up.

“What?” He asked eventually after one of your sighs.

“You know what,” you pointed out and went back to taking care of him.

“That guy deserved it, I won and I’m fine. What’s your problem again?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Fine?” You snorted at him and pointed at the mirror. “Look at your face, Benny. You’re not fucking fine,” you gritted your teeth. “Or perhaps you’ve taken a few too many hits and you’ve got brain damage now, talking nonsense. Wouldn’t surprise me,” you added angrily.

“Alright, enough,” he mumbled and shoved your hands away as he reached to the nightstand for a cigarette. He lit it and gave you the look you had known already very well. “I should just leave,” he told you. “You won’t have to worry and get angry anymore when I go.”

Perhaps you should have been used to this now but perhaps it was that one time too many. You had no answer to this, no willpower to argue. Maybe he was thinking of leaving you and that was why he kept repeating it all the time? Maybe your constant worrying was too much for him? Maybe he wanted a woman who would only care about getting fucked and taking rides and that was it? Maybe he didn’t treat this relationship as seriously as you did?

Fighting all these thoughts in your head, you just took the bowl of cold water filled with bloody cotton pads and you left him alone in the bedroom. You went downstairs to clean the mess up and to curl up on the couch in front of TV.

After half an hour you heard his light snoring coming out of the bedroom and you decided to go to sleep, too. You felt extremely numb inside, though. It was difficult to fall asleep – laying next to a man you loved so much but everything seemed to be so complicated. Sometimes love was not enough. And love itself was never complicated – but people sometimes were. Benny certainly was. And maybe it would be for the best to let him go, to let him leave, as he was always saying.

He was a man of the road, after all. He valued freedom more than anything else. Of course he would leave one day. What even had you been thinking? That he’d stay forever with you? That he wouldn’t drive away one day?

As you imagined it happening, your heart squeezed inside your chest. You realised how much it would hurt when he leaves. You had to start preparing yourself already, you decided. So it would hurt less. So it wouldn’t kill you.

You had to distance yourself from him.

At first Benny didn’t notice your odd behaviour. Well, he did. But at first it wasn’t so odd. It was nothing new that you were moody and offended at something so he just let it pass as usual. But on the third day of a house not being filled with your talking and your laughter, on the third day of you giving him a cold shoulder in bed… He started to contemplate what could be the reason behind it.

And during the picnic, you were spending time with everybody around except for him. The message was pretty clear. Even some of his friends pointed it out. Something was not right about the way you behaved around him. 

You were drinking with Betty by the fire and giggling with her about something. Benny was watching you from afar, smoking a cigarette and gritting his teeth. He missed that laughter, that giggle, your smile, the sparkle in your eye. He missed your soft hands caressing him whenever you could – playing with the rings on his fingers, tracing the outlines of his tattoos. He missed your lips kissing the top of his nose and his eyelids after telling him goodnight and he missed having you underneath him and covering your whole face with tiny little kisses as he was tickling your sides.

He threw the cigarette away to step on it and fixed his leather jacket before approaching you nonchalantly as he usually would. You didn’t even look up at him but Betty did as she stopped talking to you as if you had been discussing some secrets together.

“Benny?” She asked.

“I gotta speak to my girl,” Benny explained and the intensity of his gaze made you finally look up.

You gave Betty an annoyed look but you nodded your head and Johnny’s wife left you alone with your boyfriend. You chewed on the inside of your cheek before taking a sip of your beverage.

“What is it?” You asked with a sigh.

“Should be me askin’, don’t you think?” Benny stood next to you with his hands inside of his pockets, trying to look at your face but it was difficult since you were determined to avoid his gaze. “What’s up?”

“Nothing’s up,” you chuckled at his question sarcastically. 

“You’re actin’ up ever since…”

“Ever since you told me you were gonna leave,” you snapped suddenly as you finally laid your eyes on him. “So yeah, what are you even still doing here?” You added and tried to walk away but Benny grabbed your wrist and pulled you to his chest despite your protests.

“Is that what it’s all about, huh?” He raised his eyebrows but his dismissive tone was not helping at all.

“You’re seriously surprised, Benny? How many more times can I handle listening to that, hm? What do you think? That you talking shit like that won’t mess with my head? That it won’t have any effect on me, huh? Please!” You managed to free your wrist from his grasp. He kept staring at you with widened eyes as he was blinking slowly and analysing your every word and expression. “You wanna leave? You wanna go? Sure, go on. But I’m trying to distance myself before it happens, so…” Your voice trembled as a lump formed in your throat. “So it won’t kill me when you do,” you finished in a broken whisper while tears pricked your eyes.

After a short moment, you walked away quickly. You didn’t want to start crying and make a scene in front of everybody. And you didn’t want to start crying in front of Benny either – to let him know how much you cared about him when he was constantly talking about leaving? That felt humiliating.

So, you went inside the house and to the kitchen where you put the bottle down next to dozens of other empty bottles. Grabbing the edges of the sink, you tried to catch your breath back and calm yourself down.

When you heard the footsteps behind you, you straightened your back and wiped the tears from your cheeks. You turned around and saw Benny, leaning on the wall on the other side of the kitchen.

“I’m not plannin’ to leave any time soon,” Benny muttered nervously.

“Any time soon?” You shook your head. “Wow.”

“I mean…” He sighed and approached you. “You know, I might hit the road one day, leave forever. You know I hate being tied to one place,” he explained. “But I’m gonna take my doll with me. What gave you an idea I wouldn’t?” He lifted your chin up.

“What gave me an idea, Benny?! You did!” You pointed out with widened eyes.

“Aw, kitty, I’m just sayin’ stuff like that so you stop lecturing me, haven’t you realised that already?” Benny leaned in to cup your face and rub your wet cheeks with his thumbs. “Shush, don’t you cry…”

“Benny, I…” You caught your breath and raised your hands to cup his face, too. You missed the feeling of his beard under your soft fingertips. You scratched him the way he liked it and cracked a smile at him. The very first in a few days. “Benny, I’m worried. And I will always be. Always, you hear me? Because I love you. You can’t expect me not to… You just can’t. And doing that by telling me you’re gonna leave is the worst way of doing so. It’s killing me each time. It’s awful,” you confessed and looked down. “You can’t make me feel guilty for the fact I worry about you. I am the only one who does.”

It was true. His friends from the gang adored him but they didn’t care much about his health or troubles with the law. In fact – they encouraged Benny’s getting into fights or getting arrested. They liked him for the fact that he was wild and difficult to tame. They cheered on when he had a new bruise or a new case in the courthouse. You didn’t. 

“I’ve never had anyone worrying about me, dollie,” Benny confessed softly. “I’m not used to that.”

“I’m not doing that to annoy you. I worry because I love you,” you looked up again and bit on your lower lip.

“I know. Because I worry about you, too,” he rubbed his nose with yours after leaning in even closer. “I worry about you all the time. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

“So why can’t you understand that what I feel towards you is just the same? That I’m not doing it to annoy you?” You asked.

“It’s just hard to believe, I guess,” Benny shrugged his arms. “That a doll like you can love a guy like me so much.”

“Oh, Benny…” Now you didn’t know what to say as your heart broke in half.

“And when you’re angry at me when I get hurt… I feel like a burden,” he added.

“I’m sorry,” you apologised. “I just feel so helpless sometimes and I get angry… Because I don’t know how to make you finally understand that I want you to stop getting in trouble,” you sniffled your tears back and Benny wrapped his arms around you as he pulled you close into a tight embrace.

“Trouble is my middle name, kitty. But I’m already tryin’ my best not to mess around too much since I have you,” he promised and kissed the top of his head. “You know, before I met you, I used to think I would die young. But I don’t want that to happen anymore, yeah. I wanna grow old with you, baby.”

His words were like honey being poured onto your heart. You squeezed him tight and pressed your ear to his chest where his heart was.

“I love you, Benny.”

“Love you, too, sweetheart,” he assured you. “Don’t give me silent treatment anymore, I can’t handle that.”

“I won’t,” you giggled, with your face still pressed to his chest.

“Good.”

MASTERLIST || BENNY MASTERLIST

[idkfitememate]

Mora is a God’s Best Friend Pt. 1

♡︎ « Next Part ⋙

૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : GN! Mora Reader x Liyue

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. : 4.6k

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : Fluff, crack, reader is slightly angry, only slightly tho I promise :)

Now, you wouldn’t say you were a greedy person… which would be a huge lie because holy shit you were compared to a dragon by your friends more times than your own mother said she loved you-

When you got your paycheck - which was a very handsome paycheck mind you - you hoarded that to the best of your abilities, but when you saw something you had to have? Bought. Spent all your cash on it.

… You have to many plushies-

You weren’t exactly an avid believer in the whole “money makes the world go around!” thing, but it certainly helped. Like, have you seen how happy Elon Musk is? That bitch living the life and you want that too.

But despite your adoration to money…

THAT DID NOT MEAN YOU WANTED TO BE IT!!

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🎂🍩🍰୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

When you woke up from a nice nap after a long day of hard labor- I mean work, you couldn’t see. You also couldn’t feel your arms or legs or… well anything in general that one would say when describing their body.

You did have your five core senses though, which is nice. Well… minus sight-

You couldn’t move, and whenever you would scream the people you heard around you - their voices were muffled… were you in a pouch?? - did nothing to help.

You continued for what you assumed to be hours, never once paying mind to the fact that you never got hungry or thirsty or ran out of breath. Then you felt warmth.

Something large and warm wrapped around your form which scared the shit out of you because as far as you were concerned, you were still very human sized. You continued to scream into the darkness as you listened to the… transaction (???) going on above you and-

Wait a minute. You recognized that voice.

A lot of your money went to Genshin Impact in your day, you were what was known in the fandom as a “whale”, did I mention you got payed handsomely?

Yeah it was enough the basically be a sugar parent for all your friends.

So you heavily related to a certain character who was constantly characterized as helping another with his money problems.

Can you guess who it is?

I’ll give you five seconds to guess!

5…

4…

3…

2… fuck it I hate the suspense-

It was Childe!

And hearing his voice above you shattered what you may have thought was happening to you. Yes you may or may not have thought you were being kidnapped-

You then felt yourself get placed on another warm surface and oh god-

“All repairs will be made in a timely manner! Thank you for the patronage!”

You flipped through the air with a small ‘whoosh’ and landed back in the hand.

… WERE YOU FUCKING MORA?????

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍭🍫🍪୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

Being merged to a weapon wasn’t fun.

Well at the very least you weren’t “merged” with a weapon. For some reason the blacksmith couldn’t find a way to use your specific mora body to upgrade Childe’s bow.

So there you sat as a glorified decoration. Right on the front of the bow.

But you did find something out, the second you felt yourself attach to the bow, you could suddenly see! And you could very tell that you were in Liyue, which made sense. And when you coughed on accident, the blacksmith jumped and looked around, before shrugging and turning back to her work, which meant you could now be heard as well!

All five senses back baby!

Only shitty thing was that you couldn’t move on your own, and you now noticed you were no longer hungry nor need to breathe, as well as sleep.

So you were stuck.

For four days.

Unable to speak or move.

I mean, you were still figuring out your existence yourself, no need to get anyone else involved with the process since you were beyond confused.

You’ve read the Isekai stories - and fanfics - but you had never read one personally about being isekaied as money. Yes, you have seen the vending machine one. And the one where he gets turned into a dummy ASMR head mic-

Not the point!

You were just trying to figure out how to… exist (?) like this. Which was pretty hard when coming to terms with the fact that you’d never eat your favorite foods again.

Never again…

“Thank you so much for choosing our services sir! Have a nice day!”

You were suddenly picked up and placed in the gentle care of Childe - ironic sentence I know - and off you both went.

You want to know what a weird sensation is?

Being a bow and feeling someone pluck your string.

Now yeah, that sounds super sensual but it felt more like someone… pulling your hair?? You couldn’t really place it but that was honestly the closest equivalent. Feeling him rub his hands all up and down your… body (?????) was a new experience to. Again, not sensual, just ticklish? And it sucked trying not to giggle-

God this was weird and confusing.

“Well I’m free for some time… I’m sure a little practice won’t hurt…”

Oh good god you could not catch a break.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍧🍮🍬୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

A new fear had been unlocked within you.

You, a piece of mora crudely attached to a psychopathic killers bow, had just been de-summoned.

And it hurt.

BAD.

No one will ever know what that was like, the feel yourself fading, every atom slowly falling away into nothingness, and then the silence. That cursed silence. Deep dark blackness was what you felt for what appeared to be thousands of years to your still human brain.

Never again would allow yourself to feel that pain.

As you were summoned, you continued to stare off into the distance, coming to terms with what you had just witnessed while ignoring every word that came out of Childe’s mouth.

Something or other about practicing you couldn’t give a shit.

You only watched the changing scenery around you as you and Childe wandered aimlessly through a forest.

Then he dropped to his knees suddenly, which cause you to silently curse and sputter in shock.

Did you mention you got good at that? Being silent? Because you did.

Being that you were placed on the front of the bow, you could see perfectly where he was aiming, that being a small bird that you had to squint - how you squinted? You don’t know - to see.

It was ridiculously far away, covered in leaves. You were also slightly scared because Childe was being silent.

Childe. Silent.

Not two words you ever expected to put into the same sentence - again - but here you were.

You felt the bow string being pulled back, and him lining up the shot.

Then, you felt something course through you.

Obviously it was the Hydro infused arrow he knocked onto the string, but something else flowed through you.

You could feel yourself reaching, trying to connect with something to better control this sudden power flow, and then you found a great source.

His Hydro Vision.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍰🍡🍪୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

Childe was a seasoned soldier and fighter, literally anyone who met him could tell you that.

He kept that fact near and dear to his heart, that fact being why he fought so hard, to become stronger and finally find that fight that would be the end of him.

He longed for the day where he would be strong enough to fight his mentor, and weak enough to die at someone who he saw worthy enough to end his stories and legacy.

… Legacy was such a funny word to the man as all he could think of when it was spoken was his second, stronger form, Foul Legacy. Ironically, that’s what he though historians would call his stories in the far future - he would never admit how close it was due to the Electro Delusion that sapped away at his life, slower due to his strength but sucking away his soul nonetheless - would call it, a Foul Legacy.

He was self-aware enough to understand that people hated him, yet oblivious enough to leave his family in the hands of The Rooster, a man known for leveling cites before they even had the chance to riot against himself and the Tsaritsa.

He was complex in the same way he was so easy to understand.

Just as how he allowed the world to see his Vision but kept his Delusion hidden.

Just recently he had gotten his bow repaired after a… well not a hard mission more so than it was annoying.

And by the Archons it was beautiful! Any and all scratches and marks had been repaired, a new layer of pain was an added, a stronger string was restrung into it and just… mmm she was beautiful.~

The finishing touch was the little golden emblem stuck directly on the front. So shiny and pretty…

He just had to take it for a test run!

Nothing too big or anything, just a little hunting as he hadn’t indulged himself recently. Just a couple small birds or mammals nothing anyone would notice.

… No that isn’t a human corpse nu uh ya stupid-

Besides that wasn’t with his bow! That was with his blades it doesn’t count!

But anyway, he quickly spotted his first target of the day, a little finch, and aimed.

He noted that his bow, while still heavy, felt much more sturdy and the current string was stronger than his last, most likely due to the whole “new string” thing rather than being better because that old string had weathered a lot.

He quickly knocked his first arrow and took a silent breath in, calming his shaking hands and the butterflies in his stomach. Of course neither were from fear or nervousness rather than they were from excitement and dare I say ecstasy. A smile forceably carved itself into him skin as he watched how easily Hydro infused itself with his arrow.

Though almost immediately after, he felt a sudden surge of power coming from not him nor the arrow, but the bow itself.

Specifically the small golden piece sitting front and center.

This was either an unknown or well known fact depending on who you asked, but the bow was Childe’s worst used weapon. He was much more skilled with a blade - like his duel Hydro blades or the duel-bladed polearm he wielded as Foul Legacy - and he even had some experience with a catalyst, but bows just seemed so.. cowardly. Even with his catalyst he was near to his opponents as its attacks were based on his fighting style, but he personally believed that bows were for the cowardly.

Those who wanted to fight but were too weak to even dare step foot onto a battlefield.

At least that’s what he thought before Capitano shoved a bow into his arms as he complained about needing something more to do. A new challenge.

And it opened his eyes.

Bows were not for the weak rather that they were for the stealthy. Something Childe was not the best at.

He was honestly more of a ‘punch more and talk later’ kind of guy. But the bow was forcing him to learn and grow, which was more than welcome in his book.

But this power was not something he had accessed yet. Hell, he’s barely felt anything like it with any other of his weapons. Closest he has ever gotten to this kind of power would be with Foul Legacy, and even then it’d be a stretch.

He’d even have the gall to say he could never feel this kind of power from his Master.

He watched as the area he sat in was bathed in a blue glow was his Vision and the arrow he still held grew brighter and brighter. With that, a gold shined through as the small golden piece on his bow - which now that he looked closer looked almost exactly like a piece of mora, just with the details buffered out - also glowed.

He couldn’t remember picking up any kind of ‘enchanted’ mora, just one random one he found on the roads right outside of Liyue.

It didn’t seem off in anyway-

His thoughts were cut off as Hydro swirled faster and stronger around him, knocking him off his knees and onto his ass, his grip on the arrow and bow tightening.

All the animals ran - of course including the small finch he was aiming for - from the sounds and lights, and something deep and primal inside of him wanted to run as well.

Something screamed that he wasn’t supposed to see this, to feel this.

Something was wrong.

Soon enough he couldn’t keep his grip on the arrow.

He let go.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍪🍫🍩୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

Everything was a blur to you.

All you knew was that you had to let go of this build up of power.

You had to.

Something bad would happen if you didn’t and god damn it you weren’t about to find out.

You truly, desperately, just wanted to go home.

The songs of narwhals and whales comforted you.

‘You will be okay’ they sang.

You would be okay.

Just let go.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍡🍪🍬୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

People in the city watched in shock as a forest not too far from the harbor became a light show of Hydro and golden light.

Small animals and creatures ran towards the city, this including monsters, but nothing stopped to attack. In fact, it seemed like everything was too scared to even consider attacking.

Ningguang and her guards quickly ran outside to asses the situation, meeting up with fellow Vision Holders on the edge of the city.

However, Xingqiu and Yelan seemed… out of it. And on top of that, Childe - though he wasn’t her favorite he was strong and could be of help - was no where to be found.

“Does anyone have a grasp on the situation?” Nigguang asked, only to receive shaken heads and no’s.

“I tried to get close,” started Xiao, “But something knocked me back. I was able to hear the Harbinger’s screams from inside, and from what I could gather, he doesn’t seem to be the… direct cause.” Despite what he said, Xiao seemed a bit upset at the fact that Childe wasn’t the true cause, likely just wanting an excuse to beat him up a little.

The Geo ridden Lady huffed befit finally turning her attention to the two Hydro users who seemed entranced by the lights.

“What are you-“

“They call to us.” Xingqiu cut her off.

“They sing for us.” Yelan finished.

Nigguang looked back to everyone else who simply shrugged, before noticing Zhongli also looked out of it, though before she could get a word out, he also spoke.

“It’s so calming… I have not felt true peace like this in…”

He didn’t even finish his sentence. His eyes, unlike the two Hydro users, were entranced by the golden lights that highlighted the light show.

Nigguang’s face was filled with confusion. Though she shook it off.

And again, before she could give out any orders, she was interrupted.

Though not by anyone, but by the lights themselves.

A flash of blue light blinded the group.

Then, the song of a group of narwhals and whales filled the sky.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍩🍮🍧୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

Blue and gold light enveloped near all of Liyue, the show being noticeable by all surrounding nations, Mondstadt especially.

And the air filled with the song of Narwhal and Whale alike.

A miracle of All-Devouring Narwhals and All-Encompassing Whales swam into the sky, dancing through the clouds.

They flew gently over Liyue, the nation having been stunned into shock and stillness over the whole situation.

Nigguang watched with bated breath as they sailed by the Jade Palace, only exhaling when they passed with not problem.

Keqing watched from beside Nigguang, mesmerized at the trail of celestial power flowing behind them.

Xiao rushed up buildings in order to get closer, but was knocked back by the sheer force of their power, though he was caught by a worried Ganyu. Both landed by an armed-and-ready Shenhe, who was more than ready to attack if need be.

Xingqiu and Yelan simply stared up at the miracle, their Visions resonating with Hydro energy they released. They felt empowered, and could feel the pure raw and unfiltered strength rolling off them in waves. They wanted to be close to that power. Wanted to feel that power.

Something deep inside them wanted that power.

Everyone in the city watched as the miracle flew just above their homes and businesses, making their presence all the more apparent as they bathed the golden city in royal blue.

This continued until a small bird was dumb enough to try and take flight to get away.

This bird being the one Childe had targeted- not that anyone knew.

The Whales and Narwhals corralled the bird, forcing it to fly higher and higher into the clouds, and it wasn’t long before all ginormous creatures followed behind it.

Then an even brighter flash of blue echoed across the skyline, small star-like glitters falling to Teyvat then fading from existence before they could touch its surface. A small amount of feathers followed after.

Nigguang could feel her jaw drop.

All that… to kill a bird?????

… She was going to need a week off just to comprehend what had just happened.

Keqing pat the woman on the back, sighing in tiredness as well.

She had a sneaking suspicion that Childe may have had something to do with this… event. Gods the paperwork she was about to be loaded with…

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍬🍯🍩୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

Childe had figured out what primal instinct had led him to hide in the cave he was currently tucked in.

Foul Legacy.

He had yet to really tell anyone, but due to his time in the Abyss and its creation, it was safe to say it pretty much had a mind of its own. Which wasn’t bad as it would help him to doge attacks or alert him of presences he may not have noticed himself, but the shrieking and crying he heard from it deep in his soul was enough to tell him that this whole situation was wrong.

Nothing about what just happened should have been… well it shouldn’t have happened to say anything.

He could still hear it, resonating deep inside his soul, Electro cracking out whenever he heard a noise he couldn’t identify.

It was protecting him.

As he would for it.

He didn’t dare draw another arrow from the bow in his grasp, not until he learned what the fuck just happened. Including the fact that for some odd reason, he desperately wanted to just… stare(?) at the Narwhals and Whales until they disappeared, luckily Foul Legacy snapped him right out of that and told him to find shelter.

He did have his Hydro blades out, however, patiently waiting till he - and Foul Legacy - felt safe enough to exit.

A sudden loud caw of a bird made him flinch - not his proudest moment - and kick the bow to the side. What he wasn’t expecting was the loud string of curses that came from… the… bow..?

So now it was pinned to the wall by one blade and a foot, the other blade pointed directly at… it? There were no weak points on a bow..?

…Were there..?

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍮🍨🍪୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

This is not what you wanted.

First, you get isekaied against your will; you didn’t even remember how you supposedly DIED… if you DID die anyway…

Two, you were reincarnated as MONEY. FUCKING MONEY. How does that… who comes up with that??? A fucking high schooler who has nothing better to do than write shitty fanfiction????

And finally, three… HE KICKED YOU!!! WHO GAVE HIM THE RIGHT TO THREATEN YOU?!?

You didn’t understand your powers, what the FUCK just happened, why Hydro just… became?? you??? And why on gods green earth you had to be MORA. You’re never gonna get over that you became MORA???? Like??? Really??????? Money????? You mean, you love the stuff but COME ON-

Jesus fuckin’-

Huffing at the man before you, you finally decided speak to this bitch before you because how dare he.

“Listen here-“

You were cut off by the blade moving closer to your body(??????) and Childe growling - yes. Growling - at you.

“No you listen. I don’t know what you are but what in the name of the Tsaritsa was that?”

If only this man could see your eye twitch.

“No how about YOU listen? I don’t know what the fuck that was, but I plan on figuring it out now could you PLEASE MOVE YOUR DAMN BLADES FROM MY FACE?!?!? God…”

The Hydro blades slowly removed themselves from your face, as did the boot. But you were then picked up by the man, held shockingly gently in his grip.

“What… are you?” He asked hesitantly.

“I… I honestly don’t know how to answer that question. But I’m pretty sure I’m that little Mora piece on the front.” You answered. You forced yourself to calm down. This wasn’t his fault, just so happened to be the guy who picked you up… this was going to be a mantra for a while…

“Oh… so your this little thing right here?” You felt his fingers wrap around you - and you mean your real body - and pull. Fear immediately filled your being.

“Wait! WAIT!-“ He tugged you right out, rendering you silent.

When he pulled you out, your body glowed and you reverted back to looking like a regular piece of mora. Engravings and all.

You, meanwhile, were screaming your head off, as you now knew that if removed from a weapon, you’d just be a regular ass piece of money again. Immediately you mind started racing, wondering as to way, and the only thing you could come up with was the Elemental Energy, but lore wasn’t really your strong suit… you just liked the pretty women and men…

You felt yourself gently being pressed into the slot carved for you in his bow, and started talking again.

“NEVER! Do that again, please. Unless absolutely necessary, don’t do that. You know how terrifying it is to be able to see and speak then move a couple inches and no longer be able to see or have others hear you? Fucking horrifying I’ll tell you that…” you watched the man shiver before sighing.

“Noted. Um… anything else I should be made aware of before I ask anymore questions?”

You jumped on the opportunity.

“Whenever I am apart of your weapons. Don’t. De. Summon. Them. Hurts like hell. Ever felt your molecules beings torn apart bit by bit? Not fun, don’t recommend it.” Again, Childe shivered.

“Now… you really don’t know what that was out there?” He asked again, and you sighed.

“I wish I did. I’ll admit, I was thinking of that one move you use as Foul Legacy where you summon a Whale… and a bit of your master…”

You watched as Childe’s eyes lit up.

“You know of Foul Legacy? And of my Master?” Then his eyes darkened.

“How do you know of them..?” You shivered… as well as money can shiver anyway.

“Uhm… magic?” You asked, a noticeable tilt in your voice.

His glare then lightened up.

“Oh! Like… when you attach to a weapon, you suddenly gain a bunch of knowledge on that person?” Holy shit he just gave you a way out!

“Uh… yeah! Yeah that’s exactly what it is! You figured it out! Sorry I was uh… hesitant. Just didn’t want to reveal all my secrets, you know?” Holy shit. Holy fuck. Please work please work-

“That’s really amazing! A magical piece of mora… with the ability to make your attacks beyond that of a God’s… heheheh…”

Oop. Shit. That was not good.

“Listen. I’m not going to do anything for you without my consent, you got that? I’m not even here of my own free will mind you. Just gained sentience in your bag and all of a sudden I’m a bow. This is going to be a symbiotic relationship or I’m finding someone else, alright?” You spoke up, not even hiding the fact that you were… well a little more than concerned with what he just said.

“… What are you going to do if I don’t respect your wishes?” Shit fuck shit fuck-

“… I will scream next time you use me.”

And into a standstill you both sat.

He stared at you and he could feel you glaring into him. It was probably weird feeling a bow glare into him. New feeling he never thought he’d feel before.

“… Alright. Taking someone’s free will isn’t really something I do anyway. So don’t be fearful… comrade?” Was he asking your name..?.. Eh. Comrade is nice and you don’t feel like giving it out so meh.

“Comrade works. And uhm… yeah.” Welp that was awkward. Good job 👍🏾!

The two of you continued to stare at each other in silence for a few moments.

“So… what’s your favorite dish?”

“I can’t eat asshole-“

“Childe!”

The mentioned man whipped his head in the direction of the call, honestly scaring you with how fast it moved - you are a hundred percent sure you heard a crack.

By the covered entrance of the cave stood Nigguang, Keqing, Zhongli and both Hydro Vision users. Nigguang was the one to call him.

“What are enough doing out here? Do you have any idea was caused… whatever that was?? And - as much as I hate to ask - are you alright?” She was firing questions out at an extreme speed, making both you and Childe dizzy.

“Uhm… I was hunting, I… haven’t the foggiest idea what you’re talking about! And yes , I am okay. Thank you for asking?” You knew he sucked ass a lying but like… how did that sound convincing in anyway?? The hesitation just made it worse!-

“You haven’t the foggiest clue, you say…” Keqing asked while glaring at the ginger. Ed She Ran lookin’ headass-

“Yep! No idea, not the slightest idea, definitely wasn’t my bow or the enchanted mora on it! Nope not at all.”

The group looked at him, and he looked at them.

They looked at him, and he looked at them.

They looked at him, and he looked at them.

And this went on for several minutes before this super smart man said:

“Yep, not me at all.”

And before anyone coup ask questions you groaned, forcing all attention into yourself before tearing him a new one.

“You dumb motherfucker! “I haven’t the foggiest idea😢” my ass!”

“How did you say that?-“

“Shut your bitchass up before I sew it shut. I should beat your ass for that. How they fuck you gonna say some shit like that and expect them to just go “Oh okay!😚” like some dumbass?”

“No really how-“

“I will slap the stupid outta you don’t fucking test me ginger bitch. Fatherless. That’s why your father sold you ass off it’s cause you so DAMN stupid, Jesus.”

“Mora?”

“What do you fucking want you cunt.”

“… We’re still in front of people.”

“… I will not hesitate to shoot all of you-“

… Nigguang was going to have so much paperwork tonight.

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : MORA!READER MORA!READER MORA!READER MORA!READER MORA!READER LETS GIVE IT UP FOR MORA!READER!!!!! ૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა˖⁺‧₊˚

They’re here you guys!!!! Get happy get wild!!!! Holy shit that ending was mild!!! I hate it!!! Anyway-

This is gonna SAGAU because… meh. But that doesn’t matter! Their here! But I’m not done yet, next thing on my checklist is humanizing the animals (Main ones) so I’ll be be radio silent for a bit again lmao (unless I choose to post shit which is very likely-) ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

Hope you enjoyed the first chapter of Mora!Reader! More is, of course, on the way! ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

Have a magnificent day/night my dears!~

/)/)

( . .)

c( づ♡ Loves you guys!! <3

[bluebellhairpin]

Harwin Strong X Fem!Reader

Summary: Your nervous about a certain wedding night tradition - Harwin senses it, and takes matters into his own hand's by sneaking you both away unnoticed. (aka. The Bonus Chapter That Was Promised (aka. wedding night sex w/ Harwin)).

(VERY DEINFELTY a continuation of This Part of the series linked below. The author HIGHLY recommends reading that first if you haven't already.)

Warnings: 18+ MINORS + AGELESS BLOGS DNI, NSFW. Sexual themes/Smut (Smidge of biting. Oral + fingering - receiving. Unprotected sex. Penetrative sex. Creampie. Reader + Harwin are both switches.) Reader is fem bodied + called wife (it's Harwin's favorite nickname) + wears a dress. ✨repeated phrases ✨.

Listening to: 'Talk' by Hozier - "I'd be the dreadful need in the devotee that made him turn around - and I'd be the immediate forgiveness in Eurydice."

Series Masterlist || AO3 Link || Masterlist || Ko-Fi

Your wedding feast was going quite well. 

The hall was filled with people, one’s who’d travelled with you from your home, Harwin’s family, and the rest were from the Red Keep - the royal family included. Everyone was happy. Looking out toward the crowd, you were grateful the room was so big - so many people wouldn’t have fit anywhere in your father’s house, and certainly no table big enough to sit everyone you were currently sharing with. 

Rhaenyra was one you sat with, and she kept sending you bittersweet smiles from her place beside you. Some unspoken sorrow about how your girlhood had really gone even if you had already grown out of it, and how she knew her time too was getting closer - something you knew she feared, but you yourself didn’t have too big of a problem with. Certainly not now that you’d met Harwin. 

The one thing you did have to admit to fearing - the one thing that you dreaded most because there was never any way to avoid it - was The Bedding. Oh how you loathed it. All your life you’d been taught to fight off anyone who dared touch you in a way inappropriate, and yet here you were mentally preparing for a small hoard of men to do just that. It made you want to cling to your cup of wine like a lifeline - and even then you only allowed yourself a few small sips in between whatever food you managed to stomach. 

Then, just like he did hours before at your wedding ceremony, Harwin roused you from your nerves and proved to be a helping hand. 

“You know, if we leave now we won’t be carried out later. They probably won’t even notice we’ve slipped away.” Harwin whispered. He was lent right into your personal space, but when you faced him he was looking out toward the crowd. “It certainly would save both our modesty, don’t you think?” 

For a moment all you could feel was the warmth of his finger as it hooked around your own under the table, and how he was so close that you could feel his stray curls tickling your forehead. The music and merrymaking faded away, and it was like there was no one else around except you and him. Harwin finally turned to you, wondering why you hadn’t said anything, and when he looked into your eyes you saw sincerity. 

If someone ten years from now asked you when you fell in love with your husband, right then would’ve been a good place to start. 

“Yes,” you whispered, watching as his eyes darted down to watch your mouth, “Please. Let’s go.” 

Harwin smiled, and you found yourself quite hypnotized as you watched this force of a man escort you both out of the hall without so much as anyone saying your names. From when he stood to push your chair out from the table and shield other’s view of you with his body, to skirting around the walls and out the door - he managed it all with a practiced ease while you looked upon him with lovestruck eyes. 

You had no idea how he knew what you needed and when, but he did. For that you could genuinely say you loved him already. 

Reaching the door, he cast one last look across the room. He sent a smile toward the head table - yours - and you saw Viserys tilt his cup before raising it to his lips, a quiet blessing from the father of the realm. With that you went to the hallway, and started making your way to the room you were to spend the night in. 

Harwin led you into your bedroom, and shut the door behind him, pushing the deadbolt into place.

“Now no one can come chasing after us.” he said, smirking as he started to unbutton his tunic. You honed in on the action, and took a step back - but again without a word he knew what your actions were saying. “Don’t fret, I’m not starting anything, this thing is uncomfortable. I suggest you do the same. For one, your hair - it looks lovely, but I believe you’d be more comfortable with it all undone.” 

You could physically feel your shoulders slump at his reassurance, and nodded along to his words - indeed there were a few braids that were done a little too tight, most of them actually, and just the idea of having them out was already making your knees weak. You shrugged your cloak off your shoulders, and draped it over one of the couches, then started pulling at the pins in your hair as you moved to a seat by the fire going in the room’s hearth. 

You mindlessly pulled at your hair. Soon it was half down, and all that was left was those awful tight braids. Harwin rustled behind you, and soon he sat across from you to pull at the laces of his boots. You were reaching behind your head, starting to get frustrated at yourself for being unable to decipher how it all worked. 

Huffing, your arms flopped down into your lap. You caught Harwin’s head raising as he dropped his other boot onto the floor. He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow as he sat back in his seat. His arms were across the arms of his chair, and it made the fabric of the small clothes across his chest stretch. 

“I can’t find where this stupid braid starts so I can get it down.” you mumbled, casting your eyes away and into the fire. You heard him let out a breathy laugh. 

“Let me help you.” Your eyes flicked over to him - checking if he was serious, and if the way he was looking at you was anything to go by, he was quite serious - before they settled back to the fire as you nodded. 

Harwin stood, rounding your chair so he was behind you, and gently gathered your hair behind your shoulders. Slowly he started silently working on your hair, softly tugging here and there. You felt a braid come loose, and he started pulling it apart. The calluses on his fingers sometimes caught. Really, the whole thing was lulling you to sleep. Your eyes slowly closed, and all you could feel was the warmth of the fire on the soles of your shoes, and Harwin’s fingers in your hair. 

A few minutes must have passed before your hair was being pushed over your shoulders again, signally that Harwin was done. Your eyes stayed closed, Harwin’s hands moved to your shoulders and down your arms. Soon after you could feel his breath on the part of your neck left exposed. His lips laid a soft kiss on your spine, so soft it made a shiver go right up into your skull and down into your hips. 

“Is there anything else I can do for my dear wife?” he asked, lips moving on your skin as he spoke. Your head rolled slightly to the side, your eyes remaining closed. Harwin’s lips moved from your back, and his nose pressed into your cheek as he moved his featherlight kisses to your jaw. 

“I doubt I can untie my shoes with this corset on.” you said quietly, eyes fluttering open as he pulled away enough to look at you. 

“Let me help you.” 

Then he was before you, kneeling as he lifted your skirts enough to expose your shoes and untie your laces just as easily as he’d done his own. Before long he was finished and your boots sat thrown to the side just like his. 

“You’ve asked two things of me so far, would you honor me and repay the favor now by helping your husband, before I ask what else you need?” Harwin said. With the way he looked, hair free of its tie, face lit warmly by the fire, and on his knees with your foot on his hip - he could ask you just about anything and you’d do it in a heartbeat. And the heat in his eyes, how he looked at you - you wanted him to ask something of you just to distract you from the warmth blooming between your legs. 

“I need to know what my wife tastes like.” he said, eyes locked on yours as he raised your leg up over your shoulder, kissing your ankle as it passed his lips. Your chest rose and fell in a deep breath. If there was any time to be bold, it was now. 

“Let me help you.” you whispered, spreading your other leg to make room. To give him permission to come closer. From the way his smile broadened, and the kiss he gave your calf - one much more purposeful than the ones that came before - you were right in being bold. 

“My wife,” he sighed, pushing himself forward. Before he could go where you thought he was going, he raised on his knees, “But before that, I need to kiss you properly. The first one we shared as husband and wife was hardly one worthy of you.” 

Your leg fell from his shoulder, but his hand stayed under your dress and on your bare thigh as his other hand came up to hold your neck much like he had earlier. When he kissed you, it was nothing like earlier. His mouth moved on yours with a purpose, tilting your head back and kissing you so deeply you saw stars. He coaxed your mouth open and swiped his tongue across yours. You found he still tasted like the wine, honey, and black pepper from dinner. It made you grab his shoulder, nails biting into the skin under his shirt. 

“That,” he said, pulling away to speak, although you felt you both were lulled into quite a daze from the kiss just shared, “Is a kiss deserving of my wife.” 

Harwin’s admission - or declaration - made you glad you were already sitting down. He seemed determined to make you swoon into his arms, and the knight before you was doing a good job of it. He barely pulled away before you followed his lips in search of another breath-taking kiss. 

“Ah,” he said, pulling away from the reach of your lips with a grin, “No, now I want what I asked for.” 

Harwin had been at it for what felt like ages. Long, blissful, ages. 

You’d been reduced to a sticky, sweaty, panting mess, with a hand clutching the arm of your chair while the other held onto Harwin’s hair so hard you were surprised he hadn’t told you to stop. Instead, when you pulled harder, he only moaned, sending ripples of pleasure right onto the most sensitive spot between your legs. He had pulled you to the edge of your seat, and hiked your dress up around your stomach as his hands held your hips down. 

There was a warmth bubbling up in your lower stomach, one aided by Harwin’s lips on your cunt and your rocking your hips into his nose. It was one you were sure you’d had a half dozen times already tonight, but who were you to keep count when it felt so good. A dozen, half dozen, half of that again - it didn’t matter, what did matter was how good it felt when one of Harwin’s hands finally moved from your hip to give you what you didn’t even realize you needed. His lips moved to your clit, and a finger slid up to your folds. He inserted a thick digit in, and that along with the sucking on your bud pushed you over the edge again. Thighs clamped around his ears, and your hand tightened in his hair - again. 

“H-harwin,” you stuttered between breaths. It was enough to have him finally pulling away, and leaning up to face you again. Now he was close, you could see the flush on his cheeks, and hear how hard he was panting too. Most notable was the mess all over his beard. “You’re all wet.” you said, a little mindless with your words as your eyes were stuck admiring his face. 

“I think we both know the reason behind that sweetheart, and it certainly isn’t the only place on me that’s soaked right now.” he finished, mumbling into your lips as he hunched over you for another kiss. You couldn’t escape the taste of you on his lips, something he craved so badly it’d almost brought you to tears. It was bitter, salty, but you weren’t the one who had to taste it. If Harwin liked it, who were you to stop him? 

He leant forward and kissed you again, not shying away from making sure you tasted everything on his tongue. You moaned into his mouth, and as repayment he ground his hips into yours - making you moan again from the way his evident bulge rubbed against your most sensitive areas. Not to mention the fabric of his small clothes didn’t feel any less wet than you, and you were bare. The idea behind it made your head spin. 

“Harwin, I need you.” you whined, arching into his chest as he rutted into you again. His arm snaked around your waist to hold you flush to him. 

“My wife needs her husband. Hold onto me.” he hummed, collecting you into his arms, making sure your arms and legs had wrapped around him nicely, before standing. “Let me help you.” 

Harwin then walked you both over to the bed, all the while prying at your dress until it fell loose around your shoulders and stomach. Once he set you down on the bed, your dress was pulled away in an instant. His clothes were soon to follow, although with much less grace. He was on you after that, laying you back and pinning you down with his weight and heat. His mouth was all over your neck and around your necklace, it seemed like he was stuck in a cycle of wanting to kiss every inch of you. Your hand wove into his hair while the other moved to his lower back, urging him to press against you harder as he moved his hips into yours. 

“Please Harwin, you’re teasing me,” you said, aggressively rutting your hips up into his. You could feel him, how hot and heavy his cock was, how wet he was already - he had to have been driving you man with lust on purpose, there was no other explanation. 

“Yes, I have to admit I’m doing it on purpose,” you knew it, “I’m building my resolve. If I enter you now I won’t last.” His admission made you still, and he pulled back to look at you. Your hands remained on him, the fingers of your one hand twirling around his curls. “What?” 

“You’re that worked up?” You asked. He nodded. “Over me?” he nodded again. 

You felt something shift inside you. An overpowering feeling that comes with the realization that you, a lady from a small house in the Riverlands, has such a powerful hold over the strongest knight in the Seven Kingdoms. It lit a fire inside you. 

Your hands moved to Harwin’s shoulders, and you soon found your positions switched. He laid below you, curls framing his head like a halo as you sat pretty across his adonis belt. 

“Well, I could get used to this view.” Harwin said, hands sliding up your thighs to your hips, fingers pressing into the soft flesh there. 

“You’d better,” you said, deciding to play the bold card for the second time. You leant down until your nose brushed his, and your nipples grazed the hair on his chest. “It’s what happens when you make your wife wait too long. And yourself. So let me help you.” 

Working your hips back and forth, you rubbed your wetness all over his cock before reaching down and lining yourself up. Slowly you sunk down and let him inside you. His finger was nothing compared to this, the stretch was so much more - but the amount of times he’d made you release in his mouth had you wet enough that it didn't matter. The burn was dull, duller than you’d been prepared for, and when he finally popped all the way in you felt your eyes flutter closed at how pleasantly full you were. 

Harwin’s hands squeezing your hips had your eyes opening again. Seven Heavens, if that was what he’d look like every time you let him into your warm heat, you never wanted him to leave. His forehead glistened, and his skin glowed from the flickering candle flames. Chest rising and falling with breaths that caught in his throat. You leant back on your hands, feeling his thick thighs tensed and hard under your palms. 

“I’m not going to last,” he said, in truth you weren’t either, feeling him so completely was doing a lot to get you close to climax again, so that worked out well, “If you move it’s going to be all over for me.” 

“I’m close too,” you replied, slowly rocking your hips down into his. 

Harwin reached forward, pushing himself off the bed to sit you in his lap as his hands took control and lifted you on and off his cock. You couldn’t help the moans that came from your open mouth as he took back control, grunting into your neck in turn. Idly, for a moment your mind wandered to how nice it was that he was finding the same pleasure that you were in the exact same way. One particularly strong thrust had your arms moving around his shoulders, and at the same time one of Harwin’s hands moved between you to your clit. 

“I need to feel you come around me, I know you can,” he said, lips moving from just below your ear as he spoke into your skin, “I’ve imagined it once tonight, let me feel you for real this time.” 

That’s what did it. Imagining him thinking about you this way - this borderline behemoth of a man having been on his knees earlier as you came on his mouth, imagining it around his cock and coming untouched. You couldn’t help the way your head tilted back as you clenched around him, eyes going fuzzy as your ears seemed to dull. 

“Gods, yes.” Harwin hissed, holding you down on him as his release followed yours. 

He held you like that until both your beating hearts settled, and the ringing in your ears stopped. Once calmed, he laid back down onto the pillows, pulling you down to his chest, and kissed your forehead before bringing one of your hands off his shoulder so he could kiss your palm too. 

“Thank you.” You shifted back slightly, enough so you could look at him and he could clearly see your confused expression. “You said you’d take care of me, you did. Thank you.” he explained, leaning down to kiss your lips again once your face softened again. This kiss was much more like your very first, softer, slower. Full of love that was too new to say out loud. 

It was only broken by a grumble from your stomach. 

“I worked you that hard?” Harwin laughed as you broke the kiss. His face truly softened to one of care as he looked across at you from the pillow. “You didn’t eat much during dinner.”

“No, I wasn’t hungry then,” you mumbled, starting to sit up, “I am now.” You barely finished speaking before his hand was on your shoulder to push you back into bed. His eyes pinned you where you were as he instead moved to get out of bed. 

“Stay there.” he smiled, leaning down as if to kiss you again, “Let me help you.” 

[cameronspecial]

Some People Can Change

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings:  Swearing, Mentions of Drugs and Angst

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.3K

Summary: Rafe really does want to change, but what happens if nobody else believes he can?

A/N: Rafe isn't a murderer and doesn't hide dead bodies in this one-shot, but everything else he does in Canon happens.

Masterlist

Y/N Y/L/N was only supposed to be a one-night stand. Rafe wasn’t planning on interacting with her after she left his bedroom. He was a Kook and she was a Pogue, who worked as a bartender at the club. However, when he woke up the next morning to the smell of frying bacon and the sound of “Dance The Night” accompanied by her dance moves, he knew she wasn’t really going to be leaving his life after today. Plus, her advice was life-saving. “I think I’m going to do something really bad,” he confessed to her, sitting at the kitchen island with coffee in hand. She looked at him in understanding, “Well, you said going to, which implies it has happened yet. And if it hasn’t happened, then you always have a chance to fix it. It’s up to you to own the fact that you recognize it isn’t good and to stop it.” This led to Rafe stopping the murder of his father that he put into action. 

———

Ever since that day, Rafe is not often seen without his arm around Y/N, looking at her like she is his world. Because she is. He knows she wouldn’t put up with the shit that he pulls on a normal basis, so he made an effort to stop his vices. He is just grateful she is relatively new to town and hasn’t had the chance yet to hear the gossip about him. This means he has a chance to turn his life around before she finds out. But no one in his life actually believes he can change. 

“I told you, Barry. I’m not dealing or using anymore. Not cocaine, not weed. I gotta go cold turkey,” Rafe reiterates, sliding the drugs and gun towards the pogue. “And I certainly don’t need this gun anymore.” Barry shakes his head and pushes the item back toward Rafe, “You really think you are going to last man? You aren’t going to be able to stay away from these just because of her. You can’t change man.” “You’re wrong. Every time I do drugs, I’m making the conscious decision to turn towards them. Y/N is helping me realize that I have other ways of coping with my issues,” he gestures his hand toward his chest to prove himself. “Come on, Country Club. Just take them back.” Rafe grows frustrated with this conversation. Instead of fighting back and yelling at the dealer, he tries to take deep breaths to calm himself. It sort of works, but nobody is perfect. So he storms out of the trailer with the loud clang of the front door closing behind him. 

He gets home from Barry’s storming into the living room with his anger clear on his face. “Love, what’s wrong?” Y/N poses, lowering the volume of the TV. Rafe gives her a harsh look, “WHAT THE F-!” He can’t finish his yelling because Y/N is already gently placing her hand on his sternum to guide his breathing. “I know you are angry about something, right now, but that gives you no right to displace that anger towards me. So if you feel the need to release this negative energy, then I would like for you to channel this feeling through working out, please. I’ll come to see you to talk after half an hour.” Rafe knows that she is correct and she probably got these ideas from a psychology book she bought. God, she’s so smart. 

Rafe heads up to the punching bag in his room and starts throwing punches at it. As promised, she comes to check on him after some time. “Now that we’ve calmed down, do you want to talk about it?” Y/N inquires, bringing his hands into her smaller ones and giving his bruised knuckles a kiss. He nods at her, “Yeah, I just went to give something back to a… uh… a friend and he insisted that I still needed it. It was frustrating.” His subconscious knew the problem was deeper than that and this caused tears to threaten to spill. Rafe is quick to hide his face behind his palms. 

“Somehow I don’t believe that this is the true root of your crying. Do you think you can talk about it?”

“Uhh, no. I don’t think I truly know what I’m feeling. Can we just cuddle and think instead?”

Y/N is happy to oblige, lying down on the bed and opening her arms so he can rest his head on her chest. 

———

“No, Rafe. I have to tell Y/N. She deserves to know,” Sarah argues, making her way back into the house from the back patio. Rafe is quick to follow her. At the same time, Y/N is heading towards the same door from the bathroom. “Tell me what?” Sarah turns towards the girl, ready to tell her about Rafe’s faults. 

“Rafe is a liar and thief and violent and a drug addict. He isn’t a good person, sweetie!” 

“I may not have been a good person and I admit to being everything you’ve said but I’m trying to change. Y/N helped me realize that I need to change.”

“Ooh, like you can change. Honestly, no offense Y/N, but we both know this road to redemption act is all going to go away once you get bored of her.” 

Rafe wants to yell that it isn’t true what Sarah is saying, but he remembers the breathing exercises Y/N taught to help calm down and puts those into practice. He knows adding more anger to this argument is just going to lead toward a slippery slope of words he will regret. 

“You may believe that, but I don’t. So I’m sorry I stole the cross and melted it down. I know that it can’t bring back the artifact for Pope. But I’ve already given the money I got from it to Pope and made a donation with my own money to the church.”

“Well good for you, doing one good thing to not feel guilty and to tell Y/N you are a good person.”

“I know about all of this already. Thank you for wanting to tell me, Sarah, but I already know everything and I would like to get the rest of the information straight from Rafe, now,” Y/N interrupts the argument before it becomes never-ending. Rafe’s palms are pressed into his eyes and she knows he is trying to hide his tears. She does not allow the conversation to continue; instead, brings him upstairs and moves his hands from his face. She wipes the tears away and presses a kiss to his forehead, “You don’t have to hide your tears away from me.”

“Why can’t anyone believe I can change? What if everyone is right?”

“Don’t say that. I believe that maybe not everyone can change, but some people can change. And you are definitely a part of some people.”

“How can you say that about me with everything you’ve known about all this time?”

“Because the Rafe that I was told about would’ve ended that argument with violence. He was violent, rude, a liar, stole and relied on drugs like it was water. The one before me approached that argument with recognition of his wrongdoing. He is working on his anger, is polite, tells me the truth, always pays for me and attends NA. He is one month sober. That is how I know you have changed.”

“Nobody else believes I can.”

“I know, love. I know it hurts. But right now let’s just focus on who does believe. You and Me. Then we can use this belief to prove everyone else wrong.”

“Okay, I can do that. I love you, Y/N/N.”

“ I love you too, love.”

[luffyvace]

MORE LUFFY RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS

Yeahhh!!! Luffy hcs we’re what my first ever hcs were about! Look how far I’ve come! I love Luffy and I’m so proud of myself! enjoy these Luffy hcs lovely readers <3

Bathing together is SUPER FUN

and messy

you have lots (too many) bubbles

and yes bath toys

even stuff that’s not supposed to be in the bath-

like sticks-

let him tell it they’re swords

he personally doesn’t bathe bc he doesn’t care

even if its mandatory seeing as though no one wants to smell all that funk 😀

so he canonly bathes once a week right??

with you !! He can bathe at any time!

why? Cuz it’s funn 😆😆

you turn it into a game! an adventure!

so now he looks forward to bath time ;3

luffy splashes water everywhere

I wouldn’t be surprised if the ceiling is drenched with that dude’s strength 😂🤦‍♀️

it takes you FOREVER to clean up

but you know what takes even longer?? GETTING HIM OUT THE BATH

”AWWW but we were having sooo much FUUUUN (NAAAAAME)”

actually it did take a long time til you found a cheat code 😋

tell him sanji’s making food!!

ez way to get him out 😎

The final boss tho??

is getting him to help out with cleaning the mess up

especially after you told him there’s food around🧍‍♀️

Now bro’s DEFINITELY not listening 🙉

unless you use another cheat code (saying you’ll tell sanji not to give him any meat til he helps clean up)

your not getting any help buddy..

he’s already gone by the time you get him out the bath 🤷‍♀️

but again! If you use cheat code no.2 you can get him to help :)

which leads me to…!

Cleaning together !!

which turns into a game too :P

well, more like a competition-

Because that’s the only way you’ll keep him from getting bored and complaining instead of actually cleaning

even with meat on the line 🤭

‘it’s just so boriiiiiiiing ☹️‘

- according to luffy

so yes! You propose a competition!

and whoever cleans the fastest wins the prize of…….you guessed it! MEAT!

now he’s up like a whirlwind, swiping up all the soap with a towel and water with tissue 😏

you probably don’t even have to do anything anymore 😜

he may have won the battle but you won the war

eating together can also sometimes be a competition

now you can win by playing it smart like Uta

or just agree so he can leave you to eat, without actually trying

but if it’s not a competition…it’s certainly a war..

and I mean the dangerous one every straw hat goes through each time sanji calls in for food..

Luffy stealing your food!!!

😦😦

no but seriously, not even you, Luffy’s s/o gets the benefit of the doubt⁉️

it’s every man for himself in the dining room 😂😂

if your intelligent, depending on if your more like Robin or Nami you’ll either be unbothered about his antics or super annoyed

with being unbothered you’ll have a lot more peace of mind

and luffy will probably get away with more of his tomfoolery because you put up with him 😆👍

however with a s/o more like nami who gets annoyed easily, yeah he’s not getting away with any of that

thankfully for her, nami has less to stress over now (you take 50% it’s a requirement)

If your more carefree like luffy

i can guarantee you’ve got on like every straw hats nerves at least once

oddly enough I have a feeling you haven’t been able to bother brook just yet

dude’s 90 he got bigger problems..

but yes you terrorize everyone (even outside the straw hats) whether it’s intentional or not

if your strong it’s a relief for luffy not to have to worry about you and he’ll send you to defeat some guys, protect the ship or protect one of your weaker Nakama

he highly believes in you and your capabilities likes he believes in Zoro 👍

he also doesn’t have to worry about strong attacks hurting you as badly or if you go off on your own/get lost or separated or smth

especially as his s/o

if your weak he probably worries about you a little bit more but all the straw hats can handle themselves to some sort of extent

and he knows for sure you won’t go down without a fight!

and that you can at least hold over until he gets there

then he’ll beat the crap outta those guys!

he always tells someone strong to go with you to fights or what might be dangerous

if he doesn’t have to be somewhere for some reason, he’ll go himself!

he just wants to know your safe :)

Luffy loves you because your you! and he really just appreciates that fact in itself.

he looks past physical appearances completely and goes straight for personality

and even then he doesn’t judge that!

point is, no matter what type of anything you are, Luffy loves you because he just does.

he gets a funny feeling in his stomach and he gets extra excited!

Luffy loves you.

He simply does.

and there’s no explaining why.

These were short but sweet<3

to which i hope you enjoyed them💗

[castiwls]

two people .ᐟ part one

Paring; patrick x reader

Requested; anon

Synopsis; being stuck in the friend zone sucked, it sucked even more when your best friend was Patrick zweig. (part one)

Warnings; mentions of marrige?

Notes; this became wayyy to long to just be a single fic so I might make it a mini series?

reqs and inbox are open !

Masterlist

“You sure she’s gonna like this?” Patrick frowned, unconvinced as he held up the purse. 

You’d both been wandering aimlessly around the mall for a few hours now as he trudged behind you. He’d spent the whole morning whining about how he wanted to go home, how his feet hurt and he wanted to go practice - do anything other than look around another shop for a stupid Valentine's gift. (His words, not yours)

“She’s your girlfriend, what do you think?” You crossed your arms shooting him a hard look. Patrick fell quiet for a moment. “This would be so much easier if we were shopping for you.” He grumbled checking the price tag. “At least I know what you like.”

The words sting more than you’d like to admit because he could be shopping for you. 

If he was shopping for you things would be so much easier. Unlike his current girlfriend, you didn’t fuss over every aspect of a gift to the point where you wondered why Patrick still tried. You’d told him on more than one occasion to either buy her a voucher or get her to give him a list but no. She wanted a surprise and now you were dragging him around the mall a day before Valentine's Day and quickly running out of options.

“Well.” You huffed eyeing another bag across the store. “I know what I like, how am I meant to know what she likes?” 

Patrick scowled slightly placing the bag back down on the display. “You're a girl. Don’t you all just like the same things?” He followed your gaze to the bag, pursing his lips slightly. Maybe she’d like that one? You seemed to.

A small scoff leaves you, your eyes moving back to him. “That's not how it works. Unlike with guys we tend to have different tastes.” Rolling your eyes you picked the bag back of this display. “Simple is a safe bet.” You fiddle with the strap. “Get a gift receipt so if she wants to she can change it.”

“What’s the point in a gift receipt? What's the point if she doesn’t even like the bag?” He followed you to the cashier, his eyebrows drawn in confusion. “I want her to at least like the gift.”

“She will.” You smiled placing it on the counter and watching as the cashier rang it up. 

Truthfully, she most likely wouldn’t like the bag. You knew that the moment you’d seen it, but part of you couldn't help but push him into buying it. By no means were you a malicious person, but Patrick's latest girlfriend had been the bain of your life for the last few months, and one mistake on his part couldn’t hurt.

Maybe it was partly jealousy. He had no problem bugging you to help him pick his girlfriend a gift and he certainly had no problem using your room to crash in whenever he couldn’t get home yet…he seemed to be almost oblivious to your feelings.

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *

“You broke up?” Your hand stilled, fork halfway in the air as you stared at him for a moment. “You can’t be serious.” Valentine's Day had been what, two weeks ago? He’d fussed so much over that damn bag just to dump her before she’d even gotten a chance to use the thing.

Patrick shrugged finishing off his drink. “It was getting…too serious.” He grimaced slightly as he pushed the glass away. “She started talking about kids and marriage and all that crap and I don’t know? I mean we're eighteen who’s actually thinking about that stuff.” He laughed quietly taking a chip from your plate. 

“You don’t wanna get married?” 

Patrick paused for a moment, before swallowing. “Do you?”

“I asked you first.” Your own hand tapped absently on the table as you watched him, a slight crease in your brow. Of course, you’d thought about marriage, hell you’d had the idea of your picture-perfect wedding since you were 12 - all of which involved him at the alter - sure you weren’t jumping at the chance to get married at eighteen but the idea that he was might be against marriage threw you slightly.

“I mean…in the future if I found the right person.” He shrugged taking another chip. He raised an eyebrow pointing the chip at you across the table. “Your turn.”

“Of course, I wanna get married. Most girls have plans for their ideal wedding.” Patrick grinned at your words, his lips curling into a boyish smile which made your stomach flip. “What’s yours?”

You frowned slightly, shifting in your seat. “My what?”

“Your ideal wedding.” He leaned forward on his arms, his foot nudging yours under the table. “C’mon, I wanna hear.” He looked genuinely interested as he watched you. 

“Well, probably just something small, close family and friends…” Your mind drifted slightly as you continued to explain, visions seemed to form in the back of your mind as a small smile grew on your face.

Your cheeks were dusted pink as you trailed off. “Sorry, I uh…got a bit in my head.” You laughed looking away for a moment. 

Patrick hummed, sitting back in his booth. “That…actually doesn’t sound that bad.” He nodded, smiling slightly. 

You were both quiet for a moment. “You think I should call her?”

“What?” 

Patrick huffed. “You know who I mean. You think I should call?”

Of course. He’d just managed to get you to pour out your heart almost in explaining your dream wedding and his first thought is his ex. He was always thinking about someone else.

“I don’t know. I mean it's your relationship.”

“C’mon.” He reached over to poke your arm. “Your good at this stuff, like my own personal relationship therapist.” He joked, his eyes crinkling slightly as he smiled.

You forced out a small laugh as well - keeping up appearances you reminded yourself.

Though every time he made a joke or comment akin to that your heart seemed to break a little more each time. You’d long since resigned yourself to the fact that all you would ever be to Patrick was a friend or like in most situations his voice of reason when it came to girls.

Sometimes you wondered if he only continued to hang out with you because you were a girl and you could help save his relationships when he seemed to inevitably fuck up.

“I mean, if you really liked her then call her but don’t just do it because you suddenly feel bad.” Patrick nodded, his expression growing serious almost for a moment before he seemed to make his decision. “I’m gonna call her.” He smiled standing from his side of the booth.

He paused beside where you were sat, leaning down to press his lips to your head for a moment. Your heart jumped at the familiar gesture, butterflies seeming to form in your stomach (even after you’d tried your hardest to push them away). 

“You're the best.” He grinned handing you £20 for the bill. “I’ll see you later yeah?”

You barely had a chance to give your own goodbyes before he was darting out of the diner and into the car park.

Your eyes lingered on the spot he’d been stood before reaching into your own bag with a sigh. You’d long since stopped trying. You knew he was never gonna change and you’d slowly come to terms with being stuck as the best friend (no matter how much it made your heart hurt) 

Grabbing your purse you stood and made your way to the till.

Baby steps.

[dumbkiri]

𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐖 𝐁𝐘

𝗕𝗮𝗸𝘂𝗴𝗼 𝗞𝗮𝘁𝘀𝘂𝗸𝗶 𝘅 𝗙𝗲𝗺!𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

This is an AU where all characters are adults and have families!

“I wanna love you for the rest of my life.” 

He declared so lovingly with his hands holding his wife gently. 

The two of them danced under the moonlight and stars with silent looks from the audience surrounding the both of them. Her beautiful white dress swayed side to side as the two of them moved to the slow melody playing in the background. 

She gave him a sweet smile and removed her hand off his shoulder to caress his face. The words she returned to him made his heart flutter, “Forever and always, Katsuki.” 

He leaned forward and kissed her lips for the hundredth time that night. She felt so warm and real in this moment of his dream. He never wanted to leave knowing what awaited him when he awoke, so he remained in her arms for a bit longer. 

He forgot about his real world problems and indulged in this heavenly dream with the love of his life. She gave him everything he ever wanted. Children that were born with incredible quirks and their best features combined. A house that they built together for their growing family. 

But all good things come to an end eventually. 

“Do you miss me, Katsuki?” She looked up at him with a disappointed expression, her [e.color] eyes dulling out. 

He faltered, but replied, “Of course, I do. I miss you every time I look at our children. Katsumi looks more like you, but Hiro has your personality. When he gets mad, the earth beneath his feet cracks.”

He chuckled at the memory of Hiro’s shocked expression, then the seven year old apologizing profusely for the damage done in the dining room before he stomped away. 

“But he was rightfully mad, was he not?” 

Katsuki’s smile morphed into a frown as he returned his sad gaze to his wife knowing what she was talking about, “It was a misunderstanding, [Name].” 

“He saw you kiss another woman, a woman that isn’t his mother,” She responded quickly as she pulled away from him. Her eyes looked down at the floor and she held herself together, he knew she did this when she felt insecure. 

He wanted her not to feel that way. She was his wife, not some-

“I’m missing, not dead.” 

His heart clenched at the reminder of her situation. 

“You stopped looking for me so you could start a new relationship with someone else. Of course, it has to be with our children’s teacher, huh?” 

She looked up at him and her sad glare poked a huge hole into his heart. 

“Just because you stopped looking doesn’t mean Hiro has. He doesn’t understand what happened with that villain. All he knows is that you came home without me. Now two years go by and he sees you kissing his teacher. Wouldn’t his anger be justified because he never lost hope in finding me?” 

Of course, it’s justified. But Camie kissed him, he didn’t initiate it. He couldn’t because all he could think about was his missing wife. All he could think about was how wrong it felt to touch another woman.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and shook his head, “I…I don’t love her, not like I love you.”

Then [Name] inhaled through her nose and said, “But you’re starting to. You don’t need to lie to me and you certainly don’t need to hide this from Hiro. He will understand when you give him time. Don’t let our boy grow up to hate you because you started loving a different woman. Let him understand why you stopped looking for me and why you’re settling for Camie.”

He was settling for Camie as harsh as it sounded, but the truth lied in your sentence. 

“I meant what I said, loving you for the rest of my life,” He took a step toward her with his hands reaching out to her pretty face. 

He held her with a loose grip then he rested his forehead against hers and said, “But our children need a mother. I can’t raise them on my own. Can you forgive me?”

He felt her tears touch his rough hands and he clenched his teeth to hold back his own. He waited for those words, remembering how this dream always ended in heartbreak. But her cruel words never came, instead she gave him a different answer. Not the one his mind usually came up with. 

“Please don’t stop searching for me.”

The way his heart jumped in surprise had him pull back, looking into her [e.color] eyes that had tears pouring down her cheeks like a waterfall. 

She held onto his hands and desperately said, “I’m missing, Katsuki. Don’t lose hope, I need you to keep looking for me. I want to come home.” 

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This answer had been extremely different from the one she always gave him. He can remember word by word why she couldn’t forgive him, but now…she begged him to keep looking for her. 

“[Name], is this- Where are you?” 

The urge to ask that question to her felt strong and she shook her head, “I won’t be able to tell you, but I’m closer than you think. So please, keep looking. I don’t want to be with him anymore. I want to come home to you and our beautiful children.”

Her begging made him feel even more guilty for letting Camie kiss him. Then there was another issue that made his blood boil. She mentioned the villain that took her away. His guilt and his anger never mixed well together, it only made him more emotional seeing his wife so vulnerable. 

Katsuki breathed heavily and pulled her into his strong arms with a kiss planted on the crown of her head. 

She looked up at him through his hold and spoke, but her words could not be heard. Her lips moved, yet no sound entered his ears. He lost his hearing in a crucial moment and like a ripple in the water, she moved away from him. 

…

“Hey, old man, it’s morning already.” 

Katsuki woke up from his dream, hearing the voice of his grumpy 13 year old boy. 

Now Hiro looked like Katsuki, inheriting the spiky blonde hair and sharp eyes, but his eyes were the color of his mother’s. The boy glared at his father when he received no response from the man and said mockingly, “Don’t you have a ‘meeting’ with my teacher? She wouldn’t stop talking about it last week.” 

Katsuki groaned and sat up in the bed, his spiky hair unruly like always. His red eyes focused on his son as he blinked the sleep away. 

“I do, but it’s really just a meeting.” 

“Yeah, sure,” Hiro rolled his eyes and moved away from the door shouting, “Katsumi and I are going out with some friends to the park while you have this meeting. Then we’re going to grandparent’s house for dinner.” 

“It’s not like that, brat!” Katsuki shouted back, gripping the bed sheets tightly as he growled out. 

Then he heard his children getting ready to leave the house with no snappy remark from Hiro. 

He rolled his shoulders and neck feeling the pops in his sore muscles. His eyes roamed the master bedroom and thought back to his dream with his wife. 

She begged him to keep looking for her. 

Yeah, he admitted that he did lose hope in finding her. Two years felt like forever without his sunshine and raising kids that looked and acted like her had been rough on his mental state. 

Nevertheless, he needed to grow up and be a better father to them. They already lost their mother, they can’t afford to lose him too. 

As Katsuki was getting ready for the parent teacher conference about Hiro and Katsumi, he heard his children down the hall speaking amongst themselves. Hiro, as usual, didn’t have the need to quiet down his tone while Katsumi tried her best to get her brother to speak softly. 

“Did you really see dad kiss her?” 

“Of course I did,” Hiro bit back, hurt that his sister doubted him. 

Katsumi quickly replied to Hiro in a hushed whisper, “Whoa, hey! Not so loudly, Hiro~ Dad could be-” 

“Good, he should be listening,” Hiro jabbed then moved on to say, “Dad kissed my teacher. Now all she does is gush about how ‘attractive’ he is to other teachers. You know how awkward it is to walk down the hall while our classmates talk about dad cheating on mom? She’s not dead, Sumi. She’s missing.” 

Katsuki heard Katsumi sigh and sadly say, “Yeah, I know. But you’ve seen how dad is…angry and lonely almost every day. Mom…made him very happy back then, so who cares if he’s looking for companionship to fill that hole in his heart.”

“We should care,” Hiro snapped back, “Our mom is out there suffering with a villain. We’re suffering because we miss her. You and I are coping by relying on each other, dad can do the same.”

“I don’t think so,” Katsumi sighed and said, “He can’t even look at me, probably because I look like mom so much. I haven’t seen him smile at me since her kidnapping. He looks at me with regret and you look at me differently too.” 

“What?” Hiro asked, surprised by his sister’s claim, “No, I don’t.” 

“Don’t lie to me!” Katsumi snapped back, her temper just as bad as Katsuki’s when he was younger. 

Katsuki heard Hiro fumble with his words and shook his head at his son’s response. 

“Well sure, it’s hard to look at you, you literally look like mom! But that doesn’t mean-” 

“You two are the worst! It’s not my fault I look like her!” 

Katsuki heard his daughter storm down the stairs and shut the front door loudly, announcing her departure. Then he heard the frustrated mumbles from Hiro, the boy stomping down the stairs and angrily putting his shoes on. 

“Stupid sister,” Hiro grumbled, grabbing something by the door, “she forgot to put her shoes on.” 

Then his son slammed the front door after himself. 

Katsuki took a deep breath in and thought about his children’s conversation with each other. He didn’t think Camie would talk about their budding relationship to other teachers. Didn’t know their classmates whispered about their family. 

Then there was the situation with Katsumi. 

He hated to admit it, but his daughter spoke the truth. Katsuki hadn’t smiled at her in the last two years, not even over her accomplishments. He couldn’t hold a long conversation with her or lock eyes with her. 

But he heard her stories through his mother. 

Coming to a conclusion on how to fix his relationship with his children, Katsuki pulled his phone from his pocket and messaged his mother:

I will be joining for dinner as well. 

Who invited you? 

Does it matter? 

Just know that I’m coming over. 

Gotta talk to the kids about their mother.

Do not drag me into your mess! 

My grandchildren see me as a trusted guardian.

This is serious, old hag. You’re going to moderate the conversation. 

I’m clearly biased, brat! You kissed Hiro’s teacher while still married!

Did you even think about how [Name] would feel?

She’s missing, not dead.

“I’m missing, not dead.” 

His wife’s words from the dream played back as he read his mother’s message to him. 

Yeah, he knows that. But he can’t help the urge to fill the hole in his heart just like how Hiro can’t help acting out against him. They all have different and unhealthy coping mechanisms. 

Yeah, I did. I’m not going to deny it. But I don’t love Camie, she’s just there. 

He didn’t get an immediate response and he stood at the door waiting as patiently as he could. His foot thumped on the floorboard while his bottom lip was between his teeth. 

Then three message popped up instantly:

If you say one thing that I don’t like… I will kick you out of my house. No one hurts my grandbabies!

He smiled at her response and messaged her: I know.

……

Katsuki ignored the stares he received from other teachers and parents that he passed by in the hall. His hands were tucked into his jacket and clenched up from this unwanted attention. God, he felt small from their judgemental stares. He could hear their stupid whispers and he wanted nothing more to yell at them. 

“Hey, dad,” Katsumi called out to him with her head down, “you don’t have to visit my teacher if you don’t want to. My grades are totally fine compared to Hiro’s and-” 

“Sumi,” Katsuki sighed and looked to his left, barely catching her off guard with her nickname. He also hasn’t addressed her lovingly in two years and he hopes to fix this burned bridge between him and his daughter. 

“Uh…” He trailed off and looked away from her surprised look. She was the spitting image of [Name] back in their grade school years. 

‘Damn it, get it together and stop looking like a damn sad man!’ He yelled at himself mentally. 

After getting his composure back, he walked up to Katsumi’s classroom and stopped at the door. He swallowed the lump in his throat and kneeled down to meet her height. She ignored his intense stare, but he gently guided her face to look at him. 

Carefully he said, “I care about your grades as much as I do for Hiro’s. I know you won the prize at the science fair beating Izuku’s nerdy son. You worked hard to put that broccoli boy in his place and I’m damn proud of you for doing that. And I’m…sorry that…for everything.”

Stupidly, he couldn’t apologize properly to Katsumi. 

Luckily for him, his daughter understood what he wanted to say. She blinked her tears away and jumped at him, hugging him with a sniffle. She wanted nothing more than to have an actual conversation with her dad. Finally he was owning up to his mistakes and this is all she really wanted from him.

“I forgive you, dad,” She moved away then tilted her head, “but it will take Hiro a lot of convincing to do the same. You really, really hurt him.” 

Katsuki slumped and said, “Yeah, I know. But I want to make it up to you guys. I need to talk to you guys about something, but it’ll be with grandma too. She can keep Hiro calm and-”

Katsumi giggled and shook her head, “You really think grandma will be on your side?”

The man huffed out a frustrated sigh and stood up to his full height, “Your grandma asked me the same thing, but I wormed my way through.” He took Katsumi’s hand in his rough one and said, “Alright, let’s get this meeting done with.” 

…

Katsuki knew of Katsumi’s accomplishments through his mother, yes. But everything his daughter ever achieved made him super proud. She led the classes with confidence, competed for the top spot of the class with a ‘friendly rival’ and everyone loved her. 

He didn’t know Katsumi was popular among her classmates, especially since Hiro mentioned whispers of their family. God, he felt so stupid and regretted ever letting it get so far. 

“Katsuki,” Camie’s voice had a hint of adoration in it, “what a pleasant surprise. I wasn’t sure if you had time for teacher conferences.” Her laugh echoed in the classroom and it caught the attention of the hero’s daughter. 

Katsumi squeezed her father’s hand as they walked into Hiro’s classroom. She looked around the room and it looked sort of like her own classroom with Mr. Fujioka. Her red eyes then landed on the woman that gradually captured the attention of her father. 

She was pretty tall and slim. Her short hair was a caramel color and Katsumi couldn’t deny her beauty. Did Ms. Utsushimi have something similar to her mother or was her father interested because the hole her mother left needed to be filled?

“I’m trying to fix my mistakes and be a better father for my children,” Katsuki grumbled out and walked over to the two chairs in front of Camie’s desk. He led Katsumi to one and sat down after his daughter did. 

Then his red eyes met with Camie’s soft colored ones, “Is there anything I can do to help Hiro boost his grades? I know he’s failing some of his classes.”

Camie cleared her throat and sat down at her desk pulling up a file of Hiro’s school work. She pulled out some tests and showed the red marks on most of the questions. Then the teacher licked her lips before she explained, 

“Hiro is smart, much like his sister,” Camie compared Hiro’s old work to his current school work, “He would have been in the same class as Katsumi and Sora this year and last year, but I’m sorry to bring this up as it is a touchy topic. His grades started dropping the moment his mother went missing.”

Katsuki already guessed that. 

“Figures,” He mumbled under his breath and shook his head, “I’ll talk to him about his work. Thank you for this.” 

Katsumi stood up from her chair and watched her dad do the same. 

Quickly Camie followed suit and brushed her hair from her face, “If you really want to help Hiro out, you have to tell him to leave the work to the heroes.”

“Huh?” Katsuki gave Camie a sideways glance then turned his body towards her, “What are you talking about?” 

Camie looked down at a nervous Katsumi then back to the father, “Your kids are actively looking for their mother along with Sora. They’ve been talking about the Market and how they can find her in that group.” 

Oh hell no. His confusion immediately turned into a protective anger. 

Katsuki spun around to question his daughter with an angry scowl on his face, “The hell are you guys doing, huh? Do you know what the Market is capable of?” 

“Dad, we-” 

“They hurt children like you!” Katsuki spat then grabbed Katsumi’s shoulders in a death grip, “The Market is a group of villains that should be left for the heroes to deal with, not a dumb trio like the three of you. Do you understand me, Katsumi?” 

The little girl couldn't look her dad in the eyes, not when he looked so mad. He wasn’t even going to listen to her. 

“Katsumi,” Katsuki growled out and shook her a bit to make her look him in the eyes. Then he crouched down and used one of his hands to force her to do so. 

“They kidnap little girls and little boys with powerful quirks like you and your brother,” His eyes flashed with a dangerous warning, “then those kids are sold to the highest bidder. For months, these bidders do whatever they want to these children before they make them fight one another. The ones that lose a fight are disposed of. Do you want to end up in a ditch like them? Katsumi, I asked you a question!” 

“No!” Katsumi cried, tears shining in her red eyes.

The sight of her tears softened up Katsuki’s flaring rage and he pulled her into a hug. He rubbed his hand up and down her back to soothe her, but she kept on crying. He went too far in scolding her and scaring her, but everything he said about the Market was true. He needed her to recognize the danger in trying to find a group like that. 

Katsuki picked her up into his arms and held her gently, looking over at Camie, “We’re leaving.” 

“O-oh, okay,” Camie whispered back and watched the little girl cry in her dad’s arms. The teacher never saw a sight like that before. But she didn’t blame Katsuki for acting out like that. She’s heard the stories and truly fears for her nosy students. 

Children go missing every day, but a lot have been found dead with wounds from various quirks. She couldn’t imagine any of her students ending up like that. 

She couldn’t imagine how Katsuki would react if one of his children ended up the same way. 

……

Hiro’s head hurt a lot. 

The last thing he could remember is walking to his grandma’s house after Katsumi messaged him saying that the conferences just ended. Now his location remained a mystery to him.

 Fear slowly creeped up his back, but he had to stay focused. Fear blinds all the other senses that could help him out in this situation. 

While sitting up, his body felt extremely tired and worn out. His [e.color] eyes looked around his surroundings, but only darkness covered him. 

“What the hell is going on?” He questioned quietly. 

‘Krttzzz!’

A bright flash blinded him and he blinked his eyes to get used to the light that shone on his body. 

A flatscreen tv hung on the wall with the word ‘Welcome’ appeared on the screen. Then a robotic voice spoke to him through the speakers giving him orders, 

“The drug will wear off in a few moments and once your system returns to normal you will go beyond the door to show off your quirk. If you do not comply, you will be terminated.” 

Hiro pushed himself off the floor and the pain in his head gradually went away while he asked himself a million questions. 

He had been drugged. 

He needed to display his quirk once the door behind him opened. 

If he doesn’t follow this order, he will be…killed?

“My dad said that the survivor from the Market is pretty messed up. Said that the boy used his quirk to kill other kids, kids that the heroes found all over Japan in alleys or abandoned places,” Sora's voice echoed in his head.

The door slid open with a swoosh and Hiro’s shoulders sagged in disbelief, “Oh, fuck me.” 

[tinfoil-jones]

Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch. 14

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here

WARNING: TW/Mentions of past Suicidal ideations

First - Prev - Next

CH.14

“You’re just going to give him free reign of the house?”

“I did not think you of all people would have a problem with this, you were the one who expressed the most disapproval with keeping him in the containment unit.”

“Yes, but wasn’t your main concern that he would leave?”

“Fiddleford, he was homeless. Where else is he going to go?”

“Well there is that Rick character he keeps mentioning…”

“You sound a bit on edge, do you remember him from Backupsmore?”

“Remember him?”

“Do you remember Diane Sanchez? He’s her husband- well, he was her husband.”

“I’m afraid the name doesn’t ring a bell…”

“Hmm, I’m not surprised, engineering wasn’t her major. Regardless, you’re better off having not met him. I don’t believe we have to worry about him. He is… very far away.”

“And Stan has no hard feelings towards you?”

“On one hand, he tells me he believes I’m only keeping here as part of an elaborate, delusional grieving process, and he will ‘play along’ however long that process takes. On the other hand, he wrote ‘Look what I did to your other hand’ on my hand in marker while I was asleep, and on quite literally the other hand he drew a turkey. Fiddleford, stop laughing.”

“I wouldn’t call that malicious, but it certainly explains why you decided to keep your gloves on outside of the lab. And he agreed we could continue to study his memory loss?”

“Yes, he did - I assume that’s what you two were discussing earlier?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You were up in the attic with him for at least an hour this morning, I assume you were conducting another interview? Locking the door was a bit excessive but without a neurology or psychology degree myself I am in no place to question your methods.”

“Interview-? Oh, um, yes. Interviewing. That’s exactly what we were doing. And nothing else.”

“Of course. Now- do you know where he is? I need to talk to him about an upcoming Cryptid Hunt.”

“You’re going to take him with you?”

“I was hoping both of you would accompany me actually. But if he will not, I’d need you to stay back here with him if you wouldn’t-”

“I wouldn’t mind none.”

“Thank you for your patience and understanding Fiddleford, I’m glad I was correct in my assumption that you’d be the best suited to assist me.”

“Any of our other colleagues woulda called the cops on your presumptuous behind.”

“...I know, and I am grateful you didn’t. Now, where is he?”

“Last I saw him was in the attic trying to cover up the window with a sheet - some type of paranoia? And I heard him come downstairs a few minutes ago but I haven’t seen him. If I were to take a guess though, he most likely went through that hatch leading to the platform on your roof - it’s still open.”

“What? Stanley can’t be on the roof, he’s afraid of heights.”

*Stan abruptly drops from the hatch, landing on his feet*

“Guys you won’t believe this but some dude in a giant moth costume just flew by- woah, you alright there PhD? You look like you already saw a ghost.”

(...)

*a series of clicking noises and hoots*

“Antenna curling! That's his tell! I fold.”

“Sorry, Stanley, but it appears Mothman was bluffing.”

“What? I had 4 aces! That moth is a wizard! Guess it’s up to you to win this for us, Doc.”

*Mothman takes a bite out of a wool cardigan, Fiddleford nearby with no chips angrily crosses his arms*

“...He's mocking me.”

“I was cheating the last 8 turns, too.”

“Stanley, for shame.”

“What? I already folded. This cheater didn’t prosper.”

(...)

“Good on you for winning, Stanford.”

“Of course, I’m just sorry that I couldn’t win before he took more bites out of your cardigan.”

“Good thing I had this flashlight to distract him, he really is a moth.”

“...Did you steal that from my coat closet?”

“Yes.”

“What else did you steal?”

“Well it’s a good thing Mothman didn’t have any money on him ‘cause you wouldn’t have anywhere to put it.”

“Give me back my wallet, Stanley.”

“Poor sport.”

(...)

“D-E-F-P-O-T-E-C”

“Now use both eyes, what’s the smallest line you can read?”

“Line ten. L-E-F-O-D-P-C-T.”

“Oculus dexter and oculus sinister are both 20/20, but your oculus uterque is 20/15.”

“Look we’ve been at this snail chart-”

“Snellen chart.”

“Whatever, we’ve done this like five times. What’s the point? I already told you I don’t need glasses.”

“It just doesn’t make sense… We’re identical, your visual acuity should be 20/40 or above because years of straining would make your vision even worse than mine.”

“I dunno what you want me to tell you PhD, my eyes are fine.”

“...Did Sanchez have something to do with this?”

“Sanc-.”

“Rick Sanchez. I know that’s the Rick you’ve off-handedly mentioned several times.”

“How can you be so sure? It’s a pretty common name.”

“Because you would be familiar with that egotistical, destructive, jaded, cynical-”

“Okay so you do know Rick. And yeah, we ran in the same circle for a bit, what about it?”

“He was always doing morally questionable experiments-”

“That’s funny coming from you.”

“-but altering physiology was something he had a special interest in. Did he give you some form of eye surgery or technological implant?”

“You think I’d let that nihilistic asshole near my eyes while I was passed out… or awake? Hell no. I don’t remember ever having vision problems. The closest he ever came to ‘altering’ me or whatever the fuck you’re tweaking about was help me steal a bunch of pills from the Galac-the government.”

“You- Why did you steal pills?”

“I couldn’t get decent sleep, and after getting my stomach pumped it’s not like any doctor was ever going to give me ambien or anything stronger ever again. Also, to stick it to the man.”

“... Stanley, did you- did you overdose on ambien?”

“Twice.”

“... Was it on purpose?”

“... Once. Only once. Don’t-. Don’t look at me like I’m a kicked puppy. I know it’s messed up. I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. I did it to myself, it isn’t anyone else’s fault. And I dunno what the fallout of your separation ten years ago was like, but no matter what happened this definitely wasn't your fault.

Look, if it makes you feel better, whatever you and specs have been spiking into my food and water has been working pretty great. I’m getting way better sleep here than I have in years.”

“We have not been putting drugs into your food or water.”

“If you say so, Doc.”

To be continued…

[separatist-apologist]

Traitors Never Win

Summary: When Feyre Archeron's father promises she'll marry notorious crime boss Rhysand Moreno, Feyre will do anything to get out of the arrangement…including framing him for murder.

Rhysand isn't about to let her go so easily.

Read on AO3 | Chapter 1

The agent cooked. Feyre had never been a cook which made living on her own hell even now. She preferred things that could be dumped into a pan and heated up, preferably in the microwave. That first morning, Feyre woke to Rhys cooking waffles. He looked casual enough in jeans and a well-fitted t-shirt and the scene was strangely domestic.

She didn’t want to think like that. Wasn’t it bad enough she was sleeping with Tamlin? What would the rest of the agents think of her if word spread she’d sleep with anyone who came knocking on her door? The problem was Rhys and his stupid, perfect face. He was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen in her entire life. It didn’t seem possible that someone could look the way he did. 

Tall, with thick, dark hair that gleamed blue in the sunlight. Starry eyes that seemed violet, especially in the dark, his high cheekbones, his full lips, his perfect jaw…not to mention how broad and muscular he was, how large his hands, just…everything about him was appealing. 

And he cooked, too.

It was his smile, though, that had Feyre really considering something purely physical. She and Tamlin had never made any exclusive promises to one another. For all she knew, he had someone in every city he visited. He was attractive enough for that sort of thing, certainly. He’d never told her not to see anyone else…though maybe he just assumed she wouldn’t try and sleep with one of his colleagues. 

All she knew was that if this had been her original agent, she would have tried a lot harder to answer some of those questions. 

Rhys set himself up in her spare bedroom which existed solely because agents occasionally stayed over before catching an early flight. Feyre fluttered around offering to help, but Rhys waved her off with that easy smile of his. 

He was on his computer in the living room for most of the afternoon, brow furrowed as he typed away. Likely letting people know he’d made contact and she was safe and whatever else it was he did day to day. Feyre was endlessly fascinated by him and found herself strolling into the room and plunking herself down on the opposite end of the cream colored couch.

“So are you a bodyguard?” she asked him. He was bigger than Tamlin and had the look of someone unafraid to take a life. 

Rhys glanced over, one brow arched. “Something like that.”

“So if…he…tries to—”

“I’ll kill anyone who tries to hurt you. How about that?” Rhys offered, eyes returning to his computer. “You don’t need to worry about anything anymore.”

“All I do is worry,” she admitted with a heavy sigh. Of course, she couldn’t tell the agent that her worries had more to do with herself and her sisters than they did with Rhysand. If anyone ever learned the truth Feyre would go to jail for the rest of her life, and her sisters probably would, too. She needed things to conclude so she could put those anxieties to rest and finally get on with her life. 

“What do you worry about?” Rhys asked absently, typing again.

“Everything,” she admitted as she drew her legs beneath her chin. “I didn’t think this would go on as long as it did.”

He nodded his head, eyes glassy for a moment. “I meant what I said. Nothing is going to happen to you. I’m here to protect you.”

Feyre sighed. “I believe that.”

And she did, if only because he got paid to keep her alive. Still, any incentive was better than none, and his presence was strangely welcome. Feyre talked to fill the silence and this time, Rhys responded to everything she said, no matter how inane. And better than that, he asked her questions. Once he finished with work, Rhys made his way into the kitchen where Feyre liked to paint. The dining room was part of the spacious, open room. Feyre would open the patio door when it was warm and paint whatever happened to catch her interest. Today she was painting more trees as she tried to get her texture and shading just right. Something about painting park eluded her until she was left with a muddy mess topped in green. 

Rhys strolled in, peering at her work before looking up for comparison. “Mind if I watch?” he asked and she didn’t, really. People were often watching her work and if it inspired them to pick up a brush and try themselves, well that was even better. 

“Only if you agree to paint, too,” she said before ripping off a sheet of paper from the pad she was using. Rhys watched for a moment, unaware she was overtaken by a memory of her offering Tamlin the same thing. Tamlin had refused, cheeks darkening as he mumbled he had talent for painting at all.

Rhys took the brush. “Don’t judge me,” he warned her. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she promised. She thought of herself as a good teacher, so while Feyre worked on not making a muddy mess of her own painting, she watched Rhys too. It was always interesting to see what people chose to do first. How they anchored line and color to an otherwise blank world. 

Rhys, like so many others, chose a pale blue for the sky while leaving a space for a bright, yellow sun. Juvenile but not awful, either. Feyre saved a lot of those details for later, though she had lightly marked out her background with some color, just to keep herself rooted in her artistic reality. 

“I can feel your judgment,” he warned without ire. “You promised.”

“It’s not judgment. Just curiosity,” she replied. “You have some talent.”

“That’s a generous assessment of my abilities,” Rhys joked. “I don’t think it’s quite time to quit my day job, though.” 

“The trick to art is practice, you know. Everyone thinks its something innate—”

“I think there is an innate quality to it, though,” Rhys interrupted, turning those bright eyes on her. “Not everyone sees light and shadow the way you do.”

“You could teach yourself,” she replied, strangely breathless. 

“Sure. But that’s my point. You see it, and I don’t.”

Feyre didn’t know what to make of that. Ducking her head to hide the flush crawling up the back of her neck, Feyre returned to her painting and so did Rhysand. In the end, he put together something entirely workable—good, even, for someone who claimed to have no skill. And her tree trunks didn’t come out muddy, for once.

She supposed he was good luck. Ever since he’d shown up, things seemed to be going better. She had ninety days before Rhysand was set before a grand jury for indictment—when she’d finally tell the lie that started her down this road. He’d go to prison, his operation utterly dismantled, and Feyre would go home. 

She’d be Feyre again. Not Sarah. She could do anything, including nothing at all if she wanted. The idea was immensely appealing. Feyre went to bed that night dreaming of the life waiting for her.

She woke to the sight of Rhys nearly naked in the hall. With nothing but a white towel wrapped around his waist, Rhys stood in the hall rifling through the closet for something while Feyre…just stared. His whole body was pure, broad, golden muscle. Ink crawled up his shoulders and biceps, ending just beneath his collarbone and elbow. She supposed he wanted to present himself as someone clean cut given he was a federal agent. Lucien and Tamlin didn’t have tattoos—maybe they weren’t allowed to be visible.

Or maybe he knew how good looking he was and didn’t want to outwardly spoil it. 

Regardless, her eyes traveled over his toned stomach to the vee vanishing into the towel and oh. Oh no. She knew right then she wanted to crawl into his lap and run her nails down his chest and once again, guilt flared in her stomach. How well did he know Tamlin, she wondered? Tamlin had been her savior and she cared about him…though Feyre didn’t love him. 

And she wasn’t his girlfriend, she reasoned.

Still, Feyre cleared her throat, unwilling to pretend she hadn’t seen him. Rhys glanced over, throwing her an easy smile. “I don’t suppose you’ve got a clean razor?”

“Shelf above if you don’t mind pink,” she replied.

“I don’t mind pink at all,” Rhys said with that easy grin. Adjusting his stance to spread his legs ever so slightly, she watched him reach that muscular arm upward and pull down the plastic container holding the razor. What, she wondered, was he shaving? His jaw was smooth, though she knew the shadow would return before dinner, just as it had before.

She liked the clean cut man, though there had been something about the rough stubble that had been distracting while they’d eaten the night before. Maybe it was just his mouth that was distracting.

She looked back up, horrified to find his gaze pinned firmly on her. And judging from the expression on his face, he knew what she’d been looking at. What she’d been thinking. 

“How well do you know Tamlin?” Feyre blurted out, suddenly embarrassed.

All the ease evaporated from his posture. “Well enough,” he said, his tone suddenly frosty. “He won’t be returning.”

“What?” Feyre asked, following after Rhys into the bathroom. “How come?”

Running his tongue over his teeth, Rhys said, “I only know the rumors, of course.”

“About me?”

Oh God. Had their relationship gotten him fired? Was that why he hadn’t texted her? He was mad? 

“Worse, I’m afraid. He was on the wrong side of your investigation,” Rhys said.

Feyre blinked, looking at the white subway tile on the wall. He was helping Rhysand? The whole time? She’d told Tamlin so much…Feyre brought her fingertips to her mouth. She should have known, she realized. Should have realized why he wanted to keep such close proximity, why he fought so hard to remain her main contact. 

“He was going to take me back,” Feyre murmured. 

“We might have lost you forever had that happened,” Rhys told her gravely. “But I’m here now.”

She nodded, turning back to look at him. He was so tall, so serious as he looked down at her, one hand braced on the edge of the counter. He had her half pinned between both himself and the sink and if she’d wanted, she could have surged upward and kissed him.

But Tamlin…oh. Feyre couldn’t bring herself to do it. “I’m sorry, I…give me a second.” Feyre closed the door behind her so he could shave himself in peace before making her way to her bedroom. She had a gun tucked away in the drawer of her side table and right then, she wanted to use it. Wanted to press it up against Tamlin’s chest and fire straight through him. 

And then she wanted to hunt down the man who’d bought her and kill him, too. She felt helpless right then—caged. She couldn’t go anywhere, couldn’t do anything. If Rhysand wanted to hunt her down, well, here she was. There was nothing she could do but hope Tamlin hadn’t told Rhysand where she was.

Feyre sighed, slamming the drawer shut. If she pulled a gun on a federal agent, she was likely to be arrested. She needed air—to take a walk and try and calm herself down. There was no need to tell Rhys she was leaving—he was just monitoring, not guarding twenty four seven. And she didn’t want to see him or his stupid, beautiful face right then.

It was too distracting and Feyre needed to focus. In the early days of her new life, Feyre had spent nearly all her time trying to figure out ways to escape. What routes she’d take, what she’d have to bring with her, where she’d even go. She’d been so heavily monitored back then that she knew she couldn’t bring a phone with her—that could be tracked. 

She’d have to buy a new one somewhere else.

What had stopped her back then was the fear she’d be running straight into the arms of Moreno. But maybe…maybe sitting complacent all these years had been the problem. If Tamlin was spying…why hadn’t Rhysand come looking for her?

It didn’t make sense—unless Rhysand had no interest in marrying her at all and was waiting for an opportune moment to kill her. Tamlin, who’d been supposed to bring her in, was likely waiting on those orders.

“Feyre!”

Feyre spun on the sidewalk, surprised to see Rhys jogging after her in a pair of black athletic shorts and a matching black t-shirt. She could see the outline of his gun in his waistband, proving once again what a fucking cop he was. 

“I’m walking,” she said when he reached her, strangely petulant. 

“You could have told me,” he retorted, running a hand over his jaw. “Jesus Christ.”

“I’m going for a walk,” she told him, crossing her arms over her chest. “Alone.”

His eyes scanned the neighborhood, not finding anything objectionable among the rows of townhouses and sapling cherry blossoms. 

“Twenty minutes before I come looking,” he warned.

“Fine,” she agreed, though it wasn’t fine at all. Feyre probably wouldn’t have spent more than five minutes had he not given her a time limit. It wasn’t Rhys’ fault she was upset, either, though she couldn’t stop herself from marching away from him anyway. He didn’t say a word about it and when she dared to look over her shoulder, he’d vanished. 

Feyre returned exactly after twenty minutes. Rhys was in the living room, casual as ever as he typed away at his computer. 

“I’m back,” she told him with only minimal bite.

He offered her a smile. “Feeling better?”

She shrugged and Rhys closed his laptop.

“Want me to kill him?” he offered with a joking smile.

“Kind of,” she admitted, though it felt awful to say. “Would you?”

“Consider it done, darling,” he replied with a wink. “Have you ever shot someone?”

Feyre shook her head no.

“We should rectify that,” Rhys said in that easy going way of his. She had asked Tamlin—numerous times, actually. And every time he’d told her no, citing agency policy that must have been bullshit. Rhysand likely didn’t want her knowing how to use a weapon and she’d been so stupid to believe anything he said. She had the training she’d gotten as a girl from her father, though who knew how good it was anymore. 

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Rhys agreed, turning back to his laptop screen. Whatever waited for him drew a deep frown and the frantic clacking of keys.

“Do you want to watch a movie with me tonight?” she asked impulsively. Raising his eyebrows, Rhys nodded.

“Yeah. After dinner. Pick something out. Whatever you like.”

And Feyre vowed to do just that.

RHYS:

Things were going too well. Better than he’d first imagined. Feyre returned to teaching the morning after they’d watched a movie together. And though she’d occupied one end of the sofa and he’d taken the other, she’d wanted to be around him. They’d passed two weeks like that, creating a little routine. He got up before her, used to being up at four or five in the morning to go over business before he went to the gym at six in the morning. He was still going to the gym while Feyre slept, but now his business centered around her. He, Azriel, and Cassian continued to talk like normal and texted in code. Azriel was having a hell of a time—he’d attempted to kidnap Elain and accidentally drove her straight into the arms of the federal agent watching her. Rhys found his antics rather amusing, truthfully. He expected the middle sister to be the easiest of the three to control and as it turned out, she was the most wily. 

Cassian, on the other hand, had taken the same route Rhys had and merely executed the agent overseeing Nesta Archeron and, like Rhys had moved himself in. To hear Cassian tell it, the pair were growing sourdough starter and doing yoga with the sunrise every morning. Rhys imagined there was something else happening there—but didn’t dare comment on it.

But if Cassian could keep the eldest Archeron docile, Rhys would have leverage when it came to the middle one. He suspected the three of them were protecting each other, though he couldn’t prove that. It was just a hunch, and Rhys had long learned to trust his gut.

After the gym, Rhys came home and made Feyre breakfast before she went to work. He wanted to make her lunch, too—but didn’t dare play that card. Not yet. She was still stewing over Tamlin, prone to little sullen outbursts whenever she remembered his betrayal.Rhys could admit he’d been loose with the truth and eventually she was likely going to have a problem with the way he’d phrased things.

That was future Rhys’s problem. Current Rhys merely had to convince Feyre to act on the attraction she so obviously felt before he whisked her away to his cabin in the mountains and fully made her his wife. He’d never tricked a woman into falling in love with him, so the finer points were a little messy.

But he figured if he could show her what their life would be like, she’d settle into it a little easier. He’d misunderstood her all these years, but Rhys understood her now. Feyre hated being told what to do. If he’d wanted her, he ought to have demanded her father keep the engagement a secret and courted her on his own.

Rhys couldn’t go back and undo the past, which left him in the present, sitting on the couch in a pair of loose sweatpants and a tight t-shirt. He had, perhaps manipulatively, gone without anything underneath the sweatpants and twice he’d caught her staring. 

Come on, darling. Climb in my lap. 

Rhys wanted to touch her so badly it was making him itch with need. Feyre maintained her position on the sofa even if her fingers twisted nervously in her lap and her eyes kept darting toward him. 

Rhys kept himself focused, legs spread ever so slightly with invitation. And still, he found himself alone that night again, fisting his own cock and frustrated with his inability to make real progress with the woman he was trying to marry.

He was on borrowed time and he knew it. They wouldn’t make it ninety days like this. Eventually whoever was supposed to show up would, and the whole thing would be up. Rhys really didn’t want to add another murder to his growing list of crimes. Each new mess made it a little easier to catch him. 

Rhys needed to do something. So the first morning Feyre was off, Rhys woke her up with coffee and eggs before announcing, “I’m taking you to the gun range today.” That was merely practical. One day she might need to know how to aim straight, to fire one shot rather than ten. He didn’t want to have to spend his time worrying that someone could get to his wife who would be unprotected when he wasn’t there. This was also a gesture of good will between them.

Can’t you see I’m better than he is? I’ll take care of you if you let me.

Feyre blinked up at him, her hair an appealing mass of loose curls. Rhys could imagine another scenario in which her hair was that tousled—he had to turn away from the sight of her before his sweatpants betrayed him. 

“Why today?”

Time is against us and I need you to be ready for what’s coming. “I should have done it sooner.”

Sooner, like the minute he’d agreed to marry her but he couldn’t go back. He wished he would have introduced himself back then rather than skulking around like a petulant child, annoyed with his own choices. 

Feyre dressed in a pair of leggings and a tight, athletic top that made it hard to drive. Hard to think, really. He was so used to seeing her in oversized shirts and dresses that hung shapelessly off her body. This was different—the fabric hugged every curve of her body in an obscene way and Rhys found himself walking slower so he could admire the view of her ass without her knowing. 

“You just point and shoot, right?” Feyre asked once they were tucked away in their booth. Of course she wouldn’t let him take care of her, shaking him off when he tried to come around her. Rhys did it anyway, if only to breathe in the sweet scent of her hair.

“Something like that,” he said, covering her small, paint stained hands with his own. Did she notice the little scars that nicked his hands? Did she wonder how he’d gotten them? “No hesitation.”

Feyre fired a round, hitting the center target every time with supreme satisfaction. She turned, eyes bright and eyebrows raised. 

“What were you saying?” she asked.

I love you. 

“I thought you’d never been,” Rhys replied.

“My father was mafia, remember? We didn’t need gun ranges…he had us shooting tin cans outside when we were old enough to stand. Besides, I did archery in high school. I think I can hit a human body if I need to.”

“You said—”

“That I had never shot a man,” she replied, the clever little thing. “And I haven’t. Yet.”

He imagined that Feyre thought she’d be shooting him. What did she picture, he wondered? Some aging creep hoping for a child bride? Whatever it was, she wasn’t imagining him. 

“You knew what I meant,” Rhys grumbled, trying and failing to be anything but amused with her. His clever woman. Rhys practically purred at the thought.

“Go on then,” Rhys said, nodding toward her bullet-riddled paper. “Do it again.”

And she did. It was, perhaps, some of the most fun Rhys had engaged in, maybe in years. They traded at some point, trying to outdo the other by mere millimeters. Rhys threw some of his shots simply to let her think she was catching up, only to utterly decimate her record moments later.

It felt like foreplay, if he was being honest. Feyre was competitive and clever and had a filthy mouth he was desperate to put to better use. 

He brushed the back of her hand with his fingers when they were back outside, careful to catch her eye when she looked up at him with surprise. Yes, he wanted to say, I did that on purpose. 

He swore he saw her blush.

Rhys took her home, disappointed when she vanished up the stairs before he’d managed to get his shoes off. He went to his computer to monitor his home and talk to Cassian and Azriel. 

Cassian:

Compromised yesterday- shot in the leg. N headed up to you, Az. Might be with civilians- don’t kill them. Just contain them until I arrive. Eta 3:25

Azriel:

Already found them via shotgun to my face. I can’t clean up your mess- fed took E back into hiding. 

Jesus fucking Christ. Rhys had days left, if that, before the feds were pounding on their door. He didn’t intend to go to jail because he got caught playing house with Feyre Archeron. They might have been fine had the middle Archeron not escaped with a federal agent. He’d check in, surely. Warn the rest of them as soon as he could? 

Still, Rhys was occupied all through dinner and the movie Feyre picked. He didn’t notice she’d scooted closer, nor did he realize why she lingered in the hall until he turned off the light. All he could think about was his escape plan. He had a multitude of houses, not all of which were in his name. He could take her up to his cabin in the mountains, he reasoned. She’d be pissed, but they’d be safe. Rhys wasn’t under house arrest and could be anywhere he liked.

Except, he supposed, with Feyre. 

Semantics. 

He’d take her in the morning, then. Lie and say they’d been compromised, get her off the grid, and continue his courtship until she was in love with him. And then he’d tell her the truth—or, maybe he’d marry her and then tell her the truth of the matter. She’d need to know her last name, after all.

And then it would be too late. Rhys liked that plan enough to get into bed wearing nothing at all. That was how he preferred to sleep though for the last two weeks he’d kept clothes on just in case Feyre climbed into bed with him. It had become glaringly obvious she wasn’t—he was going to have to crawl into hers—and Rhys wanted a good night's sleep before he packed Feyre up into his car and took a trip up the mountains.

He fell asleep to rain and woke to someone standing on the edge of his bed. Thunder crashed overhead, a match for his racing heart. He didn’t think—merely reacted, grabbing the intruder by the shoulders and flipping them to the bed. Rhys had a gun against their temple, thighs pressed tight around their waist to keep them from escaping, before a bolt of lightning illuminated the room.

“Feyre,” Rhys breathed, taking his finger off the trigger. “I thought…fuck.”

“It’s fine,” she said, her eyes bright like moonlight in the dark. “Next time I’ll knock.”

Rhys took a breath, pressing one hand against his naked chest. Naked body—Rhys looked down and found his cock pressed against the thin material of her shirt. Feyre must have known it, too, given the way she was looking firmly at the ceiling. 

“I ah…sorry,” he heard himself saying, sliding off her body with screaming reluctance. 

“It’s okay,” she replied breathlessly. 

Come on, sweetheart. Give me something I can work with. 

Rhys didn’t know what to do and settled for sliding beneath the blanket rather than stand up and let her see the erection he was now sporting. “Did something happen?”

“I ah…it was just a nightmare. I thought…I can go–”

“No!” he exclaimed, his heart racing for an entirely different reason. “No. Stay.”

“Should I take my clothes off, too?” she tried to joke.

“Only if you feel compelled to,” he replied, the words smoother than they felt. Rhys was breathless, too, and half delirious when she slid herself beneath the same blankets he was under. She turned to face him, head propped up on her elbow.

“You keep saying things like that,” she reminded him, a question hiding somewhere in the statement.

“One day you’ll take me up on it,” Rhys replied, unable to stop himself from brushing a strand of thick hair from her face. 

“I don’t think federal agents are supposed to sleep with the people they’re protecting,” Feyre reminded him. As if Rhys would have cared even if he’d been the honorable sort. 

“Who said anything about sleep, Feyre darling?” Rhys asked her, holding her gaze as the storm raged around them. “I can think of a million things I’d like to do to you that have nothing to do with sleep.”

Her breath caught. “Like what?”

Rhys couldn’t help but run his finger over her exposed collarbone. Lightly, he traced it over the lacy fabric, making his way between the valley of her breasts to the waistband of her shorts. “I could show you, if you like?”

Say yes, say yes, say yes, say yes—

“Will you stop if I don’t like it?”

Rhys’s head emptied out, replaced with a violent buzzing. Vision tinged with blood, he whispered, “Has someone not?”

“No,” she replied, easing some of the white hot fury lashing through him. “I just wanted to know.”

“I’ll do whatever you tell me to,” Rhys vowed, wishing she understood the depth of his words. 

Feyre looked up at him with those moonlit eyes. “Show me.”

Oh, thank God. Rhys repositioned himself beside her, reached for her face and then, when he could all but taste her breath, he whispered, “I want to kiss you.” He didn’t give her the opportunity to respond. Rhys needed an answer to the question he’d been asking himself for the last five years—was she worth all this? In his darkest, most frustrated moments, he’d managed to convince himself this was all a mistake. That he ought to let her go and forget the entire thing and instead spend his time getting out of the feds little trap.

But morning always came, reassuring him that this was right. Feyre was his match and Rhys wanted her. Wanted every piece of her. 

He’d wait to fuck her, though his cock screamed in protest the moment the decision was made. Good things came to those who waited, and right now Rhys had the upper hand. 

Fuck, but Feyre tasted better than he’d imagined. Her lips were soft, her mouth minty and she smelled like sugared fruit. He wanted to lick his way down her body until he found himself between her legs where he’d lick some more. 

Rhys threaded his fingers into her hair, angling her head so he could kiss her deeper. His mind had run away with him, undressing her gently in some moments, viciously in others. He wanted to rip her out of her clothes or better still, cut them from her body while teasing her pretty, perfect skin with his blade. 

A little pain, a little pleasure. 

And as he kissed her, tongue sliding along her own, Rhys thought about putting her on his face and letting her suffocate him, taking her pleasure at his expense. He thought about her sinking to her knees, delicate fingers wrapped around the shaft of his cock as she pumped and licked and sucked while he held the wall to keep himself upright.

Feyre moaned, running her hands over his biceps and drawing him out of his fantasies. He had time—a lifetime worth of it—and she was here, willing and pliant in his hands. She was kissing him back, it was her teeth nipping his bottom lip and her fingertips sliding through his hair.

Her parted legs made in offering, her knee touching his thigh. Rhys couldn’t help himself as he slid one hand up her thigh. Higher and higher while Feyre’s kissing slowed, her focus narrowing on what he was doing.

Deciding to stay over her clothes for the moment, Rhys moved his fingers between her legs and rubbed a slow deliberate circle. Do you like that?

Feyre exhaled softly, hips arching ever so slightly. It was Rhys’s turn to moan. “You’re sweet,” he whispered, teeth grazing her jaw. He kept his fingers circling against her clit, using the fabric as light friction. He wanted her desperate enough to forget everything but what she wanted so he could see her undone. Rhys wanted to hear her scream his name, wanted her to know that she belonged to him. 

For Rhys, it had been five years of nothing but his hand and fantasies and all he wanted was to bury himself inside her and fuck her just as long. He was so lost in his fantasies that he didn’t realize where her hand was going as it moved down his chest to his stomach. For all he knew, he was hallucinating her touch at all.

Her fingers curling around the base of his cock were very, very real. If he’d been asleep, that jolt of pleasure would have woken him up. Rhys stuttered out a gasping breath, pulling away to look at her. Feyre’s wicked smile told him everything he needed to know mere moments before her grip tightened and she pumped him in her hand. 

“Move the blanket,” she whispered. Rhys kicked them off violently so Feyre could look at him again. Her eyes moved down his body with appreciation, landing on the cock in her hand. 

“Do you like what you see?” Rhys asked her, nose brushing hers.

“Yes,” she replied, arching into his hands when he brought them to her breasts. “I think I like everything about you.”

Rhys could have come right then and there. 

“Fair is fair, Feyre,” he whispered, kissing a path down her throat. “Take this off and let me look at you.”

Rhys’s whole life narrowed to the moment Feyre leaned up and pulled her tank top over her head. Rhys groaned at the sight of her soft, lean body and the perky breasts heaving in the dark. He could have lost himself right there, fucking himself in the sheets, face buried between them. Rhys needed to focus.

“All of it.”

Feyre arched her hips, hair falling around her beautiful face. She was taunting him, running her finger up and down the waist band while he watched her like a starving animal. Feyre ceded inches at a time, revealing hips first, and then a peak of hair she’d neatly groomed. And then the shorts were on the floor beside her top and she was in his bed.

Naked.

Rhys forgot how to speak for a second, teasing one of her nipples while he stared and stared. Committing, he realized, this moment to memory. Just in case, he reasoned. Maybe they got separated or he had to leave her somewhere to keep her safe. He wanted to be able to come to this moment in his mind and recall it with perfect clarity. 

“Spread your legs for me,” Rhys ordered. Feyre slid a lazy hand down her body, resting her fingers just above her pussy. He could see her from the corner of his eye and that taunting smile as she widened her legs with that same slowness she’d employed when undressing herself.

She was driving him insane. 

“Show me how you like to be touched,” Rhys demanded roughly, taking his cock into his hand while he watched. 

“How about, I’ll show you how I touched myself last night while thinking of you,” she replied in a sultry voice.

Rhys groaned again. “Yeah. Show me that.”

Her fingers brushed over her clit, filling Rhys with the weirdest jealousy. He wanted to be there, could feel the phantom heat even from the space he occupied beside her. That didn’t stop him from sucking in a breath when those same fingers slid into her body, dragging the slickness of her arousal back up to her clit. Feyre exhaled shakily, knees falling wide open so Rhys could watch unimpeded. 

He sat up, still pumping his cock up and down. Feyre touching herself was the most erotic thing he’d ever seen. Rhys forgot what he’d meant to do, lost in the movements until his own arousal began to rise in his throat, threatening to spill all over his hand. She was going to come, too, and Rhys found the idea of not being the one to bring her to completion intolerable. She didn’t need her hands anymore—he’d do it for her, every night if she wanted.

Or, he hoped anyway.

Releasing his own cock, Rhys grabbed her wrists and pinned them over her head. “That’s enough,” he growled, crawling over her body.

“I thought there were other things you wanted to do,” Feyre taunted, arching her hips so her slick pussy slid over the sensitive skin of his cock. Rhys shuddered, nearly abandoning his plan entirely to fuck her.

“Careful,” he warned before sucking roughly at her neck. “Or I’ll fuck that bratty mouth of yours.” Feyre arched into him again. “You could try…but I don’t think you’d fit,” she said, hand sliding down his stomach. 

Fuck he was in love with her.

“I’m sure you’d find a way to make it work,” was all Rhys could think to say. The thought of pulling her off the bed, head dangling, was tempting. He could pull her legs up to him and lick her while she fucking her throat raw. “You’re a clever woman, Feyre.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she said, tugging at the strands of his hair.

“Wouldn’t I?” he replied, licking down the column of her throat. “I think you’d like the things I’d dare to do.”

“I’m a lady—”

“You’re a nightmare,” Rhys disagreed, sucking one of her nipples between his lips. “My fucking nightmare.”

She chuckled, unaware of the truth. Right then, though, Feyre was everything. Angel, devil, nightmare, daydream. There was no going back now, no reversing what had begun. As Rhys continued his slow descent down her squirming body, he was resolved in his course of action. There was nothing that would keep him from her. No cell, no grave—nothing. 

Feyre was already slick with arousal, her pussy swollen and pink even in the dark. Rhys spread her apart to look, meeting her gaze from his spot between her legs. 

“What about you?” Feyre whispered, grabbing him by his hair and pulling rough. Rhys’s hips ground into the mattress involuntarily, responding to the force she’d used. 

“What about me?” he replied. If he had to fuck his hand in the bathroom again, that seemed reasonable enough. His cock would be wet soon enough.

“I want to taste you,” she whispered and just like that, Rhys had her halfway off the bed just like he’d imagined. There were more elegant ways to do this—ways that prioritized her pleasure, that were likely more comfortable if nothing else.

But he wanted her like this. After five years of waiting, Rhys thought he deserved to have her however he liked so long as she didn’t object. “Open your mouth, darling,” he murmured, looking down at her head hanging off the edge of the bed. She was eye level with his cock—all she had to do was open and Rhys would be inside.

“Rhys—”

“Trust me,” he murmured, vowing he wouldn’t hurt her. Not unless she asked him to, anyway. While he waited, Rhys leaned over, adjusting his weight and spreading his legs ever so slightly, so he could lick a path down her navel. “I’ll take care of you.”

He meant it literally, but he understood how she might have thought he meant in the moment. Truthfully, Rhys was too distracted by the pussy in his face to bother clarifying it for her. He could smell her and needed to taste her. For one glorious moment, Rhys forgot everything else. Gripping her by her ass to half lift her in the air, Rhys licked the length of her while Feyre gasped, pushing up so she was closer to him. Rhys licked again, forgetting he’d intended to edge her for hours.

Ah, well.

There would be other nights, he supposed. It was strange to realize he could have all the things he wanted. Or, at least have all the things he wanted with her. That was enough to convince him to keep going until she made a mess of his face.

He’d forgotten his cock until he felt her swallow it. She managed a good third before she gagged slightly and her hand began trying to make up the difference. 

“Good girl,” he gasped against her leg. “You can take me.”

He was in hell—her mouth was wet and warm, a tease of what would happen when he was buried inside her. Rhys pushed a little, testing how much she could take without work. He managed about half before she slapped his thigh, teeth lightly grazing his shaft in punishment. Fine, he thought. Anything was better than nothing, truthfully, and he was grateful she let him put his cock near her face at all. 

Rhys returned to his licking, desperate to get her off before he lost control of himself. He was punishingly close already and desperate to mark her in some invisible way. Like an animal, he wanted the rest of the world to know she’d been claimed and to stay away from her, regardless if it was right or not. 

It was tempting to pull himself off her and demand to know where she’d learned to suck cock like that. To force her to give him a list so he could track them all down one by one and punish them for touching his wife. Rhys might have, too, had he not been so desperate to get her off. Feyre squirmed, moaning around the cock she still had buried in her throat. It was too much—Rhys couldn’t think his way out of his impending orgasm. He should have masturbated before he went to bed just to take the edge off. She was going to think he was quick. 

“Feyre,” he panted against her, legs shaking with effort. Rhys redoubled his efforts, kissing and sucking until Feyre’s determined rhythm stuttered. And though his cock screamed in protest, his balls so tight he thought he might explode, Rhys kept at her until Feyre came, still gagged by his cock. She managed one suck, panting and moaning around him and that was all it took.

Rhys came down her throat, forgetting he’d intended to come on her face.

This was better, he thought, face pressed to her thigh as he bit at her flesh. Neither of them moved, still riding out the wave of pleasure rocking through them. He wanted to know how she felt—did the world seem different to her, now? It felt different to Rhys.

Carefully, he knelt beside the bed where Feyre still hung, her hair a waterfall around her. “That was…” he murmured, sitting with his back against the frame so he could kiss her cheek, “incredible.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, pressing her forehead to his shoulder. “Really good.”

“Stay with me tonight,” he asked impulsively. He just wanted her near. Feyre nodded, leaning up as Rhys crawled back into the bed. He swore he meant to have her again, that he was only going to close his eyes for a moment. 

Rhys passed out, and when he woke, the bed was empty again. For once, Feyre had beaten him awake. Rhys didn’t mind. He took his time, showering and dressing himself while replaying the night before. Somehow he doubted that Feyre had made breakfast, but maybe he’d get lucky and she’d offer herself up to him.

Rhys made his way down the stairs where Feyre waited in another oversized t-shirt and a pair of tight leggings. She’d braided her thick hair over her shoulder again… and she was staring at his computer with those moonlit eyes he loved so much.

“Good morning, Feyre darling,” Rhys said, assuming the game was up. He should have known better than to leave his computer up and accessed so easily…but what did he care, truly, if she looked? He’d show her everything if she asked. 

Feyre stood as Rhys made his way to the kitchen, pouring coffee as the hammer clicked back on a gun. 

“You,” she said, her voice trembling ever so slightly. 

“Me,” he agreed, positive she wouldn’t shoot him. Why wait, he reasoned? She could have shot him in her sleep if she’d wanted, but she hadn’t. She’d waited for him to come downstairs and explain himself and that was progress.

“You lied to me.”

Had he? Rhys couldn’t recall a time he’d been overtly dishonest. “You drew your own conclusions,” Rhys reminded her, turning as he blew steam from his mug. “I never lied to you. I told you who I was the day we met.”

“You—you let me think…” she stood, still pointing her weapon at him. “Did you kill Tamlin?”

“You asked me to, remember?”

“Because you said…oh my god…you said…”

Rhys was grinning. “He was keeping you from me.”

“So you killed him for doing his job?” she demanded.

Rhys smiled. “Oh, darling, I killed him because he touched my wife—”

“I’m not your wife!” she declared. Rhys finished his sip, setting his mug to the counter. As he walked toward her, Feyre backed up until she was pressed against a wall. She held that gun, even when Rhys took her hands in his and pressed the barrel firm against his chest.

“You are,” he replied, holding her gaze. “And if you’d come to me for help, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“I didn’t want your help,” she whispered. 

“No? Did you ever think that I could have paid someone to look at your story closer? To really examine that bat? I’ve kept you out of prison, Feyre.”

“You’re the reason he’s dead in the first place.”

Rhys had to resist rolling his eyes. “Shoot me then, Feyre. Pull the trigger and end this.”

They stared at each other for a beat—long enough for her to hesitate, and longer still for Rhys to yank it from her hands before hauling her over his shoulder. 

“We can unpack your shitty childhood later,” Rhys informed her as she kicked at the air. “For now, it’s time to go.”

“Go where?”

Rhys sighed with delight, thinking of his cabin and the time alone they’d have together. 

“Home.”

[thehomeofplatonicfics]

Curiosity Killed the Cat

MC!Reader x Sebastian Sallow (platonic!)

Sebastian was definitely keeping a wide berth from you, you knew this much. What you didn’t know was why. He had been trying to sort out all his dark thoughts, his tumultuous feelings, the guilt of what happened to his uncle and losing Anne, possibly forever. You had done so much for him, he had realised this now. However, you had your own troubles and burdens; the loss of your dear Professor Fig, and well, the entire battle against Ranrok in general. He thought you certainly wouldn’t have time for his emotional problems too. Especially, after how he had treated you in the weeks leading up to those tragic events. He realised how selfish he had been and thought staying away from you would be helpful.

It was driving you absolutely crazy. The fact that the boy you’d given everything to would just now walk by with just a glance and a curt nod. It was worse than anything. More than once, you found yourself tempted to cast a basic cast (or even a confringo) at him just to get him to respond to you, react in some way to your existence.

In the weeks leading up to the end of term, you realised that without Professor Fig, you now didn’t really have anywhere to go once the Summer holidays arrived. You certainly couldn’t go back to the muggle orphanage. Originally, you had been planning to ask Sebastian and Anne if they’d speak to their uncle Solomon, about letting you stay… but clearly that wasn’t going to work anymore. You couldn’t ask Ominis, because he was trying to escape his family, and Poppy had her own issues with family. You thought of then asking Natty, but after she had literally taken a cruciatus curse for you, you weren’t quite convinced that Professor Onai would be willing to have the living, breathing reminder of it staying with them for the whole summer.

So, who had been left? In the end, you plucked up the courage to ask Imelda Reyes. Shockingly, the Quidditch obsessed witch had warmed up to you and had agreed, but only under the strict pretence that you would have to fly together a lot and let Imelda practise Quidditch as much as she pleased with you.

Of course, you felt you had no choice but to agree. However, in between these flying practices, you were finding yourself bored, restless and still thinking endlessly of Sebastian, of Ominis and Professor Fig. You needed something to do, desperately. So, one evening you had pulled out the old familiar field guide that Professor Weasley had given you at the start of your fifth year, and you decided to set a quest for yourself; specifically, to complete all the Merlin trials before the start of your sixth year.

It started out as a fun little distraction, but as the weeks drew on it became more and more like a desperate obsession. Sometimes, you’d spend hours trying to solve them, refusing to eat, drink or rest until you had solved that particular trial. You were slowly but surely running yourself ragged over these damn trials.

It didn’t take long for Imelda to be concerned after your flying times started slowing down, and Imelda being Imelda, she certainly didn’t hesitate to call you out on it. More than once she had uttered, “You look awful, Y/N.”

On this particular day, you planned to solve two Merlin trials that were close to Feldcroft. They were too close for your liking to the village Sebastian grew up in, and you had been wanting to avoid it for a long time, but at this point you just couldn’t help yourself. You had to solve them. You had to solve them all.

Meanwhile, Sebastian was sat outside on the grass by his house, reading a book. He looked up to notice the familiar outline of you flying on your thestral overhead, looking positively wild. Curiosity and concern piqued, he closed his book and decided to try and follow you. It took him a while to track down your trail, only having the vague idea of what direction you were going in, and he sighed in relief when he saw the thestral hoofprints that soon evolved into your familiar steps.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he saw you, but he certainly wasn’t anticipating the scene he found. You sat there on the stony cobblestones of the Merlin trial, almost in tears and muttering to yourself. “Where are you?” You frantically whispered, as you started rapidly casting confringo and incendio at literally everything. “There must be another! Why aren’t you working?” You muttered again, growling in frustration.

You stood up to turn and cast confringo once again, as you heard something behind you, but before you cast, you gasped in shock and your wand fell from your hand, clattering onto the cobblestone. Both of you stood there, staring at each other, neither of you sure what to say.

The longer you both stood there in silence, the deeper Sebastian’s brow furrowed in deep concern as he looked you over. “You look awful.” His words echoed in your mind like he was Imelda’s parrot.

“Thanks very much, you don’t look so great yourself.” You retorted, sighing slightly, his words affecting you more than you’d care to admit.

An awkward silence passed between you. “Why are you here?” Sebastian asked, stepping forward. “Why are you here?” You countered defensively, taking a subtle step back. “Saw you flying overhead, got curious.” Sebastian replied nonchalantly, shrugging slightly.

“Curiosity killed the cat.”

As soon as you said it, you outwardly cringed, feeling like it was very inappropriate in the circumstances. Your flushed face looked around for an escape.

“I’m sorry, that was-” “No, it’s okay.” You tried to apologise, but Sebastian cut in before you could finish. Another awkward pause ensued.

“You didn’t answer my question. Why are you in Feldcroft? Shouldn’t you be back at home or wherever.” You kicked the ground with your shoe as you tried to think of a response, stammering slightly. “I can’t go back. Was going to stay with Fig, but obviously that didn’t work out.” You forced an awkward laugh, burying a sob that threatened to surface. “I’m staying with- well, it isn’t important. I’ll be out of your hair soon enough.” You turned away from him, considering the conversation over.

“You’re trying to solve the Merlin trial, aren’t you?” Sebastian said it as more of a statement rather than a question, as if he already knew the answer. You raised an eyebrow, feeling as if he somehow knew what you had been up to this whole time. “Yes, I am. Trying to, anyway. This one is impossible!” You paused, looking at Sebastian’s face with suspicion. “You don’t seem very surprised.”

Sebastian sighed, running a hand through his hair, taking a moment to gather his thoughts before he replied. “That’s because I'm not. Ominis has been writing to me the whole summer with updates about various… things.” At this he paused, a small, sly smirk appearing on his face. “He told me that he’s heard about several sightings of the Hero of Hogwarts-” “Don’t call me that.” You interrupted him, muttering under your breath as you grit your teeth, your face contorting with disgust at that name. “Okay… sightings of a certain person flying around the Scottish highlands and mysterious ivy arches appearing in your wake.”

You turned back completely to face him fully, your mouth gaping open, your shoulders slumping down. “Recently his letters have been sounding more concerned. People are worried about you.” Sebastian sighed loudly, restarting his sentence. “I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t be, I’m fine. Just passing the time, that’s all.” You replied, a little more hostile than you had intended. Sebastian shook his head, reaching for you as you stepped back. “Why are you doing this, Y/N?” Sebastian stepped toward you again. “Why not?” You retorted, your voice raising slightly.

“You’re taking it too far, Y/N. It has become an obsession. It has got to stop.” He pleaded with you. “You hypocrite! This is harmless!” You cried out, shaking your head in disbelief, “You’d know all about taking things too far, wouldn’t you?!” He stopped, shaking his head with a grim expression, knowing that he probably deserved that comment.

“What happens when you’ve finished all of them, Y/N? What then?”

A heavy silence passed between you. You suddenly sat back down on the ground, completely stunned by the question as if you had just taken a stupefy to the chest. In all this time, you hadn’t actually thought about it. You presumed it would take the whole school holiday, but you only had eight trials left to go, and three weeks to do them in. You’d be done, for sure, before then.

“I don’t know.” Your voice sounded small and strangled, as you looked up to the sky which was beginning to darken for the evening. “I have to solve them. I just know I have to.”

At that moment, Sebastian spotted the missing fire pillar that you’d been so fervently seeking. “It’s over there.” He pointed to it in defeat. You immediately threw powerful confringo spells at all the pillars. The arch reveals itself and you sighed in immense relief, finally smiling.

Sebastian smiled along with you. “That’s very satisfying.” He admitted. “It is, for a few seconds. Then I feel empty, hollow, and craving more.”

“So, you look for the next one to find that joy for a few more seconds.” Sebastian shook his head. “That’s a slippery slope you are on, Y/N.”

“I know.” You stared up at the sky, doing anything to avoid looking at him.

“Come back with me, it is getting dark.” Sebastian offered, turning around and walking away, not looking back to see if you were following him or not. For whatever reason, you found yourself silently following him back into Feldcroft. He could hear your footsteps behind him, but chose not to say anything.

As you gingerly stepped through the front door of the familiar house, you immediately felt the intense pang of a bizarre mix of guilt, nostalgia and longing. It was strange to walk in and not see Solomon pottering about, to not see Anne sat on her chair or her bed. “Do sit down.” Sebastian offered, and you hesitated, looking between your remaining options. Instinctively, you avoided Anne’s usual seats.

A cup of tea and an apple was thrusted under your face. “Eat. Drink.” Sebastian practically commanded, the undertone betrayed his deep concern. You looked up at him quizzically. “You look like you need something sweet. I know you like them.”

You tried to smile, but it fell rather flat. As you sat and nourished yourself in silence, a heavy oppressive feeling sat on your chest. “How can you stand it?” You blurted out suddenly, turning to look at Sebastian. He raised an eyebrow, inviting you to elaborate. “Being in this house, alone, I mean.”

Sebastian simply shrugged, moving to lean on the kitchen countertop. “Because I have no choice. These were my actions, and now I must suffer the consequences. I learnt the hard way that some things just cannot be changed.”

“I don’t think I could do that.” “Do what?” “That.” You vaguely gestured at him. He chuckled. “It seems after everything, I still have new things to teach my charge.” A smile and small blush appeared on your face as you thought back to your first trip with him to Hogsmeade. “Ah, there’s the elusive smile I’ve been looking for.” “Stop it, Sebastian.” You smiled despite your words.

The atmosphere already felt a little lighter and a weight felt like it had finally been released from your shoulders. This. This feeling is what you’d been searching for all summer. Sebastian gave a soft smile, kneeling down so that he was eye-level with you. “Y/N, I promise to solve the rest of them with you, together. I want to turn this all into a positive memory for you.”

You wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug. He gasps slightly, surprised by the motion, before he returned it. “You already have, Sebastian.”

[seafoamwaffle]

Next Stop: Pelican Town // Stardew Valley AU

Ever since @norinenglish posted about their stardew ranchers fic concept I haven't been able to get the idea out of my head, so I've decided to make it everybody's problem.

I'm not going to be following the farmer's story beat for beat, instead, I'm just taking it as a loose inspiration and seeing where it takes me. Is there going to be more? Who knows, certainly not me!

First draft of Jimmy coming to the valley can be found under the cut :D

The bus travelled down the lonely highway, the slight unevenness of the road sending Jimmy’s head bumping against the window. There were endless mountain ranges just on the other side of the glass and peaking between the small crevices he could even see the ocean. Verdant grass covered every inch of the place—such a far cry from the dull greys of Zuzu City. 

Which, he supposed was the point. Looking back at it, it was only a matter of time before the city chipped away at the last bits of himself until all that remained was just a shallow husk of a being. It was too loud, too full, too much. 

Though who was he kidding? He could blame all his recent troubles on the city all he wanted, it wouldn’t get him anywhere. There was no guarantee things would get better in Pelican Town either. 

Positive thoughts, Jimmy, warned Pearl’s voice somewhere in the back of his head. Positive thoughts. 

Right. Things at least—probably?—couldn’t get any worse than they had been. And now he at least wouldn’t have to burden his cousins with coming all the way out to Zuzu City to keep an eye on him. 

It had been their idea to have him move back to Stardew Valley in the first place. Grian had suggested he stay with him up in the spare bedroom of his cabin, though Jimmy had resisted the idea with all his might. He’d caused them enough trouble as it was. The last thing they needed was to have him leeching off their kindness at all hours of the day and invading their personal space. 

After that conversation though, the incessant need to move out of that city to get away increased tenfold, until his small apartment full of stuff that wasn’t even his own began closing in on him, until there was no longer enough space for him to even breathe. 

“What about Gramps’ old farm?” Grian had asked as they were lounging on the couch one evening. “You wouldn’t have us breathing down your neck all the time there and we’d be a few minutes walk out if you ever needed company.” 

“Have you been to that place at all in the past few years? It’s so overgrown you can barely get to the house!” Protested Pearl. Her legs were draped across the both of them while she nursed a bowl of popcorn in her arms. 

“Okay, so it needs a little bit of cleaning up—”

“Understatement of the year.” 

“—but it would solve our conundrum here, right Timmy?” 

Two sets of eyes turned to stare at him as Jimmy shifted uncomfortably in his seat and pretended he’d still been paying attention to the long-forgotten movie playing in the background. 

“I… I think I’d need to sleep on it.” 

Up until that point he hadn’t thought about the old ranch much. Though he had spent most of his early childhood there, he and his mum moved to Zuzu City after Grandpa passed away. He can’t even remember if they ever came back to visit, although that’s not exactly something he could ever blame her for. What was there to return for besides memories now painted over by grief?

He had loved that place to bits as a kid. How could he not? It was a pocket of the world that always felt as if it had been carved out just for him, endless fields and meadows he could run around until he could no longer catch his breath, chasing around friends whose faces he could barely recall anymore. And the animals—the chickens, the cows, the goats, creatures that at times understood him better than any person could. He wanted to become a vet because of them, though that dream was now long forgotten, locked away with every other ambition. 

It had been the happiest he’d ever been. 

That realisation had hooked its claws underneath his ribs and refused to disappear, reminding him of its existence with each breath he took. 

He could have that again if he gave it a try. 

At first, he attempted to squash that idea down as best he could, to lock it away in a small box tucked at the very back of his mind. It tasted too much like the sickly sweetness of false hope and he wouldn’t—couldn’t let himself be overtaken by it again before he inevitably came crashing down into reality. 

But it was too persistent, growing louder and louder the further down he attempted to push it. So, when he had gone through the few things he still owned from back then and found the deed to the old ranch tucked between photo albums and Grandpa’s old books, it felt as though fate had made the decision for him. 

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

It was all too soon that the bus hissed to a halt at a small clearing with barely any indication that there was a bus stop to begin with, besides a ticket machine tucked to the side that anyone could miss easily if they didn’t know it was there. With dread and anticipation both mixing in the pit of his stomach, he stepped out into the open. 

“Timmy!” 

Before he processed what was going on, there was an arm that hooked around his neck, pulling him down enough for Grian to reach and ruffle his blond hair. It took him a moment to pull out of the grasp. 

“What happened to a good old-fashioned hello?” 

“Welcome to Stardew Valley!” A theatrical voice boomed from the side, immediately catching Jimmy’s attention. 

On the dirt path leading to the bus stop stood a man dressed in elegant reddish clothing. He leaned heavily on an ornate cane while his other hand held a matching tophat. A wide smile overtook his features. Behind him he caught a glimpse of Pearl, sitting on a wooden fence.

The stranger made his way over to them. “I’m Scar, mayor of Pelican Town.” He offered a small bow, before placing the tophat back on his head and offering Jimmy the now free hand. 

“I’m—I’m Jimmy Solidarity.” He stumbled over his words as he shook the hand of this clearly important man. His brain wasn’t going to let him forget that for weeks to come. 

If he noticed anything amiss, Scar didn’t comment on it. “I’ve heard a lot about you! It’s not every day someone new moves it. It’s quite a big deal! The entirety of Pelican Town is anxious to meet you.” 

The words sent Jimmy’s stomach tying up in knots and though he attempted to cover that up as best he could, the pitying look Pearl sent his way told him he hadn’t done a good job at it. 

“How ‘bout we take him to the cabin first, yeah? I’m sure others are gonna be able to wait until he gets settled in.” 

Scar’s smile never wavered. “Why of course, of course. Just follow me!” 

An uncanny feeling crept up his spine as they walked down the dirt path he must’ve walked through thousands of times as a child. It seemed much smaller now, the wooden fences surrounding it were much worse for wear. Something so familiar growing into something foreign. 

They stopped once they reached another big clearing and oh—he’d thought Pearl had been exaggerating about how overgrown the property had become. But weeds and debris stretched as far as he could see and where there used to be fields full of crops now grew sturdy trees. 

And the house… Well, it looked as though no one had set foot in or around it in more than a decade, which he supposed must have been the case. 

“Told you it was bad,” Pearl half-snickered, though there was no real malice in her tone. 

“You’re exaggerating! With enough time this can all be fixed up easily.” 

“Says the carpenter. The house looks like it’s being held together with duct tape and Gramps’ old stubbornness! Are you sure this is even safe to stay in?” 

Grian waved a hand in dismissal. “I went to check it over a few days back. It’s not a luxury hotel or anything, it’s covered in about an inch layer of dust and I’m pretty sure most of the wiring and plumbing needs to be redone, but it’s not going to collapse at a moment's notice.”

“Reassuring,” Jimmy chimed in, though his gaze wouldn’t leave the old house. It stood tall, with warm-toned wooden walls and a big front porch leading to the reddish front door. The attic window had been broken, with plastic stapled on from the inside to prevent rain from soaking the inside. 

This was what had become of his childhood home. A broken, empty mess. 

“I mean, it’s got character, it’s rustic!” Scar jumped in.

“Crusty’s a better way to put it—” 

“Listen,” Grian jumped in, cutting off whatever Pearl was about to say. “I’ll help you get it back into proper shape as long as you’ll get all the materials, deal?” 

Jimmy mumbled something vaguely affirmative as he continued staring at the overgrown ranch in front of him. 

It was going to be one hell of a fresh start