#I’ve never lived in a city before (always from the sticks lol)

[mycological-mariner]

Energy bills are making me want to commit acts of violence. Maybe several.

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Seeing all these asks about Geneyen giving bitches backshots/breaking backs then taking off with panties and debit/credit cards makes me want a fic about Geneyen giving backshots taking panties and stealing debit/credit cards lol

Ask and you shall receive.

Fool Me Once - Chapter One

Warnings: Theft, smut. Word count: ~1200

Author's note: No gods, no masters, no tag lists. Only scabs community label fics. If you find yourself tempted to slap a label on this, please block me instead.

Main series masterlist

Genyen awakens, sticky with sweat, an acrid taste in his mouth and a hangover lingering behind his eyes. He silently curses himself for not splurging the extra cash for a place with air conditioning, not that’d be sticking around long enough to appreciate it, but the humidity here is unbearable.

He fled to Thailand after clearing out the donations from the Buddhist centre, along with Jinba’s bank account. He has kept moving since arriving, never staying in one place for more than a week, it’s too risky to settle anywhere when he makes a living from robbing pretty, gullible tourists.

His grifting has taken him to Krabi, Pattaya City and Ko Pha Ngan. This week he finds himself in Pa Tong. No matter the city or district, the situation always plays out the same way; he dons his Buddhist monk robes, heads to the nearest beach and spins a pretty girl a line about how he’s left the monastery because he wants to experience a day in the life of a tourist. By nightfall he’s spilling himself into a condom inside of her, then rifling through her purse once she’s asleep.

He has no idea what possessed him to start tearing the ID pages from their passports. The first time it happened he’d found it as he’d rummaged through her handbag. He’d flipped to the back, curiosity leading him to want to look at her photo. Before he had time to think fully about what he was doing, he’d ripped it out, pocketing it along with her knickers and all the cash she had.

He has quite the collection now. He rolls over in the bed, draping a long, lean arm down the side to rifle through his duffel bag. Underwear of all colours, cuts and sizes is stuffed inside. He thumbs through the stack of ID pages; Sweden, Australia, South Africa, Canada.

Would be cool to have one for every country, he thinks to himself.

He pushes the passport pages and panties to the side, plucking out the wad of banknotes rolled up beside them and counts through it. Shit. Less than two thousand baht left. He’s only been in Pa Tong a few days, but partying all night, every night burns through money fast. He’s going to need to find another target today, or he’ll run out of cash.

After dragging himself out of bed, chasing painkillers with the dregs of the previous evening’s final beer, and showering, Genyen finds himself strolling the perimeter of Pa Tong beach. He is glad that his robes are relatively lightweight, the heat of the sun feels oppressive. He shields his eyes from the blinding rays, surveying the hordes of people soaking up the Thai heat.

That’s when he spots her. His eyes are immediately drawn to the curve of her arse, peeking out from a tiny pair of bikini bottoms as she lays face down. She’s immersed in a copy of The Secret. Oh, this is fucking perfect. 

He saunters over to her and she immediately looks up as his shadow is cast over her. He smiles as her eyes widen in surprise.

“I’m sorry, I don’t have any cash on me if you’re looking for donations.” She smiles sweetly at him.

“Oh, I’m not here on behalf of Wat Suwan Khiri Wong. I’m actually trying to get away from that.”

“Really? And why is that?” She asks curiously, closing her book.

He settles cross legged on the sand in front of her. “I’ve dedicated my whole life to the monastery and practicing the teachings of Buddha. I’d like to know what life has to offer outside of that. I’m Genyen, by the way.”

“Genyen.” She repeats, eyeing him curiously. “Makes you sound important.”

He laughs softly. “It’s nice to be important, but it’s more important to be nice. You can call me Shawn, if you’d prefer.”

He spins her his entire lie and she falls for it. He tells her his mum passed away when he was ten, that his dad married a woman called Mary and when his dad then passed away just before Shawn was due to go to university, Mary had contested the will. She’d gotten everything, the house included. He went away to university, but had nowhere to go once he graduated, so he went travelling and ended up here, in Thailand. He was taken in by the Buddhist monks and renamed Genyen, which means ‘approaching virtue’.

She pays rapt attention, her face softening in sympathy for him, and by the evening they sit in a beach bar together, their knees brushing as she sips a strawberry daiquiri.

“So if you want to experience life outside of the monastery, why aren’t you drinking?” She says, playing with her staw.

“Better to take these things slowly, just talking to you today was a big enough step.” He lies. He knows better than to get buzzed. Drunkenness leads to sloppy mistakes.

He barely has to make an effort. Two more cocktails and her eyes are glazed as she leans in to kiss him. Her lips taste like rum and he kisses her back hungrily.

He follows eagerly when she leads him back to her hotel room. They make quick work of undressing each other. His eyes dart around the room, making a note of where she discards her bag.

It’s not long before she’s on all fours, his hands kneading the fleshy globes of her backside that he’d spent most of the afternoon admiring, as he snaps his hips against her. She clenches around him, warm and oh so tight. He can feel how soaked she is even while wearing a johnny and the sensation causes him to groan as he speeds up his movements.

She moans, arching her back, pushing against him and he slides a hand up the smooth skin of her back, grabbing a fistful of her hair, biting his lip at how this makes her squeeze him harder. She may be a dupable airhead who stupidly believes in the power of manifestation, but she is undoubtedly one of the best lays he’s ever had.

He isn’t sure if she comes, he doesn’t care. His grip on her hips is vicelike as gives one final thrust, shuddering as he pulsates and spends himself into the latex.

It doesn’t take long for her to fall asleep. He lays there, waiting for the sound of her breathing to deepen and even out. Once she starts to snore softly, he creeps out of the bed. He dresses before looking through the handbag he’d seen her drop to the floor earlier. He pulls all of the banknotes from her purse, pocketing them. No cash on you? Bloody liar.

Her passport sits on the vanity table and he grabs it, flipping to the back page. He smiles as he looks at her photo, illuminated by the moonlight that streams through the window. She looks so dorky, it’s actually kind of cute. He almost feels bad for robbing her.

He tears the page out, wrapping it in her discarding bikini bottoms, then pockets those as well.

Slipping out of her room, he lets the door click softly closed behind him, walking out into the balmy night air of Pa Tong. He was going to miss her. Well, he’d miss her air conditioning, that’s for sure.

[suckitsurveys]

Do you have the right time set on your microwave?: No. We unplug it frequently so we never set the time.

Do you have any old newspaper articles? Why?: I have a copy of a local neighborhood newspaper that featured the hospital where my mom was going to deliver her first baby (my older sister). She is on the front page of the paper. It was at my dad’s so I am not sure how I ended up with it. I know he also has an article from the Chicago Trib where there’s a picture of him and me at a Cubs game. He’s holding me and he had just caught a ball.

Do you have a flat screen tv or just a regular box?: All of our TVs are flat screens.

Do you have a radar detector for your car?: No.

Have you ever been arrested? For what?: Yes, a bullshit trespassing charge. We were collecting sticks in an OPEN yard.

Do you know how to change the oil in your car?: I’ve never done it or even attempted to.

Have you taken your shower yet?: I don’t shower every day.

Do you like Tootsie Rolls?: I do.

Do you have a printer? What kind?: We have two 3D printers lol.

Are you seeing anybody currently?: I am married.

Do you or have you ever smoked cigarettes?: I have, but not habitually.

Do you like it when it snows?: It’s pretty but I hate having to travel in it.

Are your ears pierced?: Yes. One on my right, three on my left. I’ve actually been wanting more.

Where do you do most of your shopping?: Depends on what you’re talking about.

Who do you live with?: My husband and three kitties.

What is your most expensive bill?: Rent.

Do you have a big yard?: It’s decent, especially for the city.

Do you live in the country or the city?: City.

Do you sleep alone or with someone every night?: With my husband and at least one cat.

Did you have a treehouse as a child?: No, but I had a swing set that had kind of a treehouse platform on it.

At what age did you obtain your driver license?: 21.

Do you look in the newspaper for coupons?: Nope. I get them all online.

Did you get a big tax refund from last year?: It’s fine.

Do you like Slim Jim’s?: Eh.

Is there someone you would love to punch right now?: Yes, always.

Did you grow up fast?: Lol.

What are you favorite kind of chips?: Salsa Verde Doritos.

Have you taken any medicine recently? For what?: Just regular pain meds.

What have you eaten today?: Cereal and a salad.

Did you or are you going to wash your hair today?: No, not til Friday.

Does the water in your shower take a long time to get warm?: No.

Where did you go today?: Just to work.

Are you sleepy right now?: Of course. When aren’t I?

What color is your mousepad?: I don’t have one.

Should you be doing something else at the moment?: I should be working.

Do you like your neighbors?: Yes, the ones in my building anyway.

Do you have bedroom shoes?: No.

Do you get your eyebrows waxed?: No..

Has anyone given you flowers recently?: No.

Do you work Monday thru Friday?: Yes.

Is there anything you are looking forward to tomorrow?: Yes! It’s my last day of work before I leave for Boston! I am also getting my nails done.

How many miles does your car have on it?: I can’t remember.

Is your alarm clock set to radio or beep?: I use my phone for my alarm.

Do you like to go fishing?: Eh.

Has anyone you know been arrested recently?: I don’t think so.

Do you have more than 1 email address?: Yeah, I have a couple.

Do you think you will have the same job 2 years from now?: Yes.

Do you have central heating and air?: No.

Do you speed while driving?: Sometimes oops.

Is there someplace you would rather be right now?: Yeah, not at work.

Did you build the computer you are using?: No.

Do you have good computer speakers?: This computer doesn’t have speakers.

Are you waiting on anything at the moment?: The day to end.

Where is your favorite person?: He’s at home.

Do you keep track of your debit purchases?: I mean, sure.

Do you ever shop at Harris Teeter? I have no idea what that is.

Do you like to burn incense?: Yes.

Are there any plants in your house?: Yes.

How long does it take you to get to work?: About 20 minutes.

[luminnara]

alpha!erasermic x pregnant!reader | ABO fluff

Request:  Hiya! i’m wondering if you can do an alpha! erasermic x pregnant! omega! reader? maybe when both alphas leave their lunch at home and she goes to bring it to them. the reader and both alphas collectively have custody of hitoshi and eri, and the reader is heavily pregnant. preferably a female reader please, and none of class 1-a have met her. this is my first time requesting stuff so i hope i did okay! 😅

You did wonderfully! I love writing cute fluffy stuff like this, and it’s my first time writing any kind of erasermic thing even though I love them so much, so hopefully I did okay! Idk where exactly this sits timeline-wise, don’t worry about it, it’s omegaverse and I can do what I want lol. I took this prompt and sort of RAN with it, too

*also Mirio has his quirk back in this because it’s fun, and the reader has kind of a dodgy past because i wanted to add a little SPICE*

Warnings: a/b/o, pregnancy, the implications of Aizawa’s scarf and all of its uses

You sighed, resting a hand on your swollen belly. “Those two...”

You had only just gotten Eri out of bed, and, upon heading into the kitchen to fix her some breakfast, you saw two lovingly-prepared bento boxes sitting on the counter. Shota and Hizashi must have forgotten them in their hurry to get to UA earlier that morning, and while you knew they could very easily grab something to eat in the cafeteria, you hated the thought of these meals going to waste.

Besides, your inner omega was a bit miffed that they hadn’t taken your home cooked food to work with them. Was Lunch Rush’s food so much better than yours that your alphas would rather eat at school? You refused to believe that, even if his quirk was cooking. There was no way that he could make your alphas a meal that could compare to the kind you always cooked for them, and maybe it was the pregnancy hormones making you extra bristly about it, but you were determined to march right on over to UA and bring them their proper lunches. 

Even if you were heavily, heavily pregnant. They’d probably have something to say about you leaving the house and waddling around Musutafu with only Eri as company, but you were tough enough to fend for yourself. And besides, it was only a quick train ride to the station outside the school, and if you did get yourself into any kind of trouble, the city was chock full of pro heroes and their sidekicks, many of whom you were on a first name basis with. 

“Eri!” you called, grabbing a bag to carry the boxes in. “Are you dressed yet? We’re going to visit UA!”

You could heard a thump, followed by the sound of little feet thudding as she ran to meet you. When she appeared in the doorway, her eyes were wide with excitement, her long hair falling around her shoulders messily. “Yes!”

“Go brush your hair and then we’ll go,” you laughed, ushering her towards the bathroom. 

“Why are we going?” the little girl called. 

“Hizashi and Shota left their lunches,” you explained. “We’re bringing them so that the food doesn’t go to waste.”

“Can we visit Deku and Togata?”

You paused to think. You hadn’t actually met any of Shota and Hizashi’s students before, your alphas always preferring that you stay home and away from the sometimes dangerous school they taught at. Well, you knew Hitoshi, of course, and since he had yet to move into the dorms on campus, he still lived at home with the rest of the family. At least he had remembered to grab his lunch. Would your adopted son be embarrassed to see you appearing at his school? Hitoshi always carried himself in a very collected manner, and the thought of being able to show up and pinch his cheeks and coo at him made you laugh. 

And you knew that everyone in Class 1-A would be over the moon to see Eri. The little girl that had been rescued from Overhaul was popular amongst the young heroes-in-training, from what you’d heard, and if you were going to go all the way to UA, you’d be damned if you didn’t let her see her friends there. 

“Of course we can,” you said with a smile as she came running back in, her hair significantly less tangled. “Ready?”

“Ready!” she beamed up at you.

“Do me a favor and carry this?” you offered her the tote you’d tucked the bento boxes into and she took it from you eagerly, bouncing towards the door. 

You grabbed your purse, made sure your keys were inside, and followed her out, taking her free hand. Together, the two of you made your way to the nearest train station, a few neighbors waving hello as you passed. There were no villains to be seen or head of, and the pros you saw out on patrol all looked happy and relaxed. They all knew who you were, some of the betas and omegas approaching to chat about your pregnancy and ask how things were going. The alphas hung back, calling greetings or offering waves, none of them wanting to get too close to a pregnant, mated omega and risk the wrath of your alphas if their scents happened to cling to you. 

The journey went smoothly, Eri sticking close to your side the entire way. You were both excited to be going to visit UA--Eri, because she would get to see Deku and Mirio, and you because you hadn’t been to the school in years--and as you stepped off the train and the gates finally came into view, you let out a happy laugh. 

“Ready?” you asked Eri, leading her towards the entrance. 

“Mhm!” she nodded eagerly, pulling you forward. “Let’s go! Let’s go let’s go let’s go--”

“Hang on, hang on,” you waddled after her as quickly as you could, fishing around in your purse. When you finally found what you were looking for, you pulled out an ID card, holding it up towards the sensor atop the UA Barrier gate. “You have your card?”

“Yep!” Eri said, grabbing the card hanging from the lanyard around her neck and mimicking you. 

“Special ID accepted,” a robotic voice chimed. “Welcome to UA High, (y/n) and Eri.”

The gate opened and you led Eri through it, the big school looming just past it. The special ID cards you both had were a result of Shota insisting that you be able to get to UA if you ever needed to. With the upgraded security measures, and so many of the students living in the dorms, it wasn’t easy getting onto the campus without either a student or guest card. You probably technically weren’t even supposed to have one, but no one was going to argue with Aizawa and Yamada when it came to ensuring their omega would be able to get to them in case of emergency.

This wasn’t exactly an emergency, but it was still an important mission, so you had absolutely no qualms about using your special ID privileges today. You just hoped nobody else would be mad about it.

 “Hey, is that Eri I see?” a voice called. 

You turned to see a blond haired, blue eyed boy jogging towards you and recognized him as Togata. He was dressed in a PE uniform, and as he stopped in front of you, you could see that he was panting. 

Eri immediately set the bag down and rushed toward him, running into his open arms. “Lemillion!”

Mirio laughed as he scooped her into a hug. “What are you doing here? Aizawa didn’t mention anything about a visit!”

“Aizawa forgot his lunch today,” you said, nodding towards the bag Eri had dropped. “So we thought we’d bring it and visit.”

Mirio straightened up a bit when he realized you were there. You had to be absolutely covered in your alphas’ scents, and even if they never told any of the students about you, there was no way that Mirio hadn’t figured it out by now. Besides...your bond marks were very big and very visible, one on each side of your neck just below your scent glands. There was no way Mirio didn’t know what that all added up to. 

You had never officially met him, but you’d heard plenty about all of UA’s Big Three, and after he and Deku saved Eri from the Shie Hassaikai, you’d heard even more about him. He was selfless, going so far as to sacrifice his own quirk to keep Eri safe and get her away from Overhaul, and for that, you’d always feel a little indebted to him. He’d luckily been able to get it back, but Aizawa had told you that there had been a long period in which nobody was sure it could even be returned to him. 

“Oh, s-sorry!” he bowed to you. “I don’t think we’ve ever been properly introduced! I’m Togata Mirio, I was there at the Shie Hassaikai raid--”

“I’ve heard plenty about you,” you laughed as he straightened up again. “I’m (y/n). I’m the stay at home omega that keeps Shota and Hizashi from starving all the time.”

Mirio’s laugh was probably one of the most raucously happy sounds you had ever heard. “We’re all grateful for that! As for me, personally, I’m really glad Eri has such a great mom now, too. And you’ve got more on the way!”

“Sure do,” you groaned, a hand on your lower back as you tried to lean and stretch it out some. “Due date’s in just a couple weeks. Can’t wait to get ‘em outta here.”

“Well, at least you already know how to do the parenting part!” Mirio was still all smiles as Eri grabbed for his hand and he took it, picking up the tote bag as well. “Come on, it’s my free period so I’ll take you to 1-A’s classroom.”

“Thank you, Togata,” you said, hand on your belly as you followed him into the school. 

“It’s no problem!” he beamed at you over his shoulder as he led the way. “It’s almost lunch, too. Perfect timing!”

“Is it really?” you glanced up at a clock on the wall, and sure enough, it was nearly noon. “Wow. Guess we took longer than I thought. But...ugh, I didn’t bring any food for myself or Eri...”

“That’s no problem! Lunch Rush always has tons of options in the Grand Mess Hall.” at your slight glare, Mirio added, “...But I’m sure even his best cooking is no substitute for a homemade meal!”

“That’s right,” you growled, waddling along down the hall. 

When the three of you reached the 1-A door, Mirio used his permeation quirk to stick his head straight through it rather than knocking, and judging by the resounding scream of surprise that nearly shattered the windows, he had scared Hizashi half to death.

Mirio pulled back and opened the door, revealing a room full of groaning students, all clutching their ears. Hizashi was the only one who seemed unbothered by the sheer volume of the scream he had let out, clutching his chest instead. 

“Why can’t you knock like a normal person, dumbass?” a blond boy snarled. 

“Bakugou! You shouldn’t swear in front of esteemed upperclassmen!” a black-haired boy with glasses said. 

“It’s not just me you’re swearing in front of!” Mirio said, still smiling, like always. With a nod of his head, he tugged Eri into the room.

Everyone lit up, and you even caught Bakugou’s harsh expression softening some at the sight of her. 

“Eri!” a freckly, green haired boy exclaimed, jumping up from his seat. 

“Deku!” the little girl yelled happily, letting go of Mirio’s hand to run towards him.

You watched as he knelt down to greet her, the rest of the class all getting up, or at the very least leaning over in their seats to say hello. All except Hitoshi, who looked up, made eye contact with you, started to roll his eyes, and then sighed. 

Oh, you were so going to embarrass him today. 

Hizashi was still trying to catch his breath, but now, with the students all distracted by Eri, he finally had a chance to notice you. You could see his nostrils flare as he recognized your scent, his head whipping around to spot you standing there in the door.

“BABE!” he rushed toward you, pulling you into a hug. 

“Hi, Hizashi,” you laughed into his shoulder, clinging to his jacket as he rubbed his scent gland over your hair. 

He immediately pulled back, holding you at arm’s length as he looked you over. “What’re you doing here? Everything okay?”

“I’m fine,” you chuckled. When he glanced down at your swollen belly, you added, “we’re fine.”

He let out a relieved breath. “Okay. Okay, good. Had me worried there for a sec.”

“They came to bring you lunch!” Mirio said, holding up the bag he had carried in for you. “I ran into her and Eri outside while I was out for my daily jog.”

“Togata here was very helpful,” you said. “He even carried that bag for us.”

“Gotta help everyone who needs it, whenever I can!” the teenager gave you a thumbs up. 

“Thanks, Mirio.” Hizashi said, putting an arm around your shoulders and pulling you up against his side. “Means a lot to me that my family stays safe.”

“Family?”

You turned to see all of Class 1-A staring at you. 

Hizashi cleared his throat, the sound practically echoing. “Everybody, this is my mate.”

The room suddenly erupted. 

“Who is she?”

“Is she a pro?”

“Can’t believe anybody would put up with him...”

“Bakugou, quiet! Don’t be rude!”

“But, wait...” Deku said, still kneeling with Eri. “I thought Eri’s been living with Mr. Aizawa..?”

The students all glanced to each other before their eyes swiveled to you and Hizashi. 

“Oh, Hizashi,” you teased. “You never told them?”

“I, uh...” a slight pink tinged his cheeks as he blushed.  

Luckily, before he had the chance to stumble over his words any longer, he was saved by the appearance of a very tired, very disgruntled, Eraserhead. 

“What the hell is going on and why the hell are you screaming in my classroom?” he growled from the doorway. 

Hizashi turned the two of you to face him, and you saw the anger immediately drain from Aizawa’s face. 

“...What are you doing here?” he asked, his bloodshot eyes full of concern. “Everything okay?”

“Hi, Papa!” Eri chimed from her spot next to Deku. 

“...Hello, Eri. Why are you also here?”

“You both forgot your lunches,” you said, practically scolding them. “I worked hard on those!”

“So you came all the way here just to bring us lunch? You realize we have an entire cafeteria here, right?”

“Don’t even think about it,” you growled. 

“You shouldn’t be walking across Musutafu without at least Hitoshi with you. It’s too dangerous.”

At the mention of his name, everyone’s heads swiveled to look at Shinso. He sighed, slumping back in his chair and dragging a hand down his face. 

“You know, if you wouldn’t forget the lunches that I so lovingly put all that hard work into, I wouldn’t even have to go all the way across Musutafu to bring them to you.” you said haughtily, nose up in the air as you stared your alpha down. “And besides...you know better than anyone that I can take care of myself, and Eri, no matter how pregnant I am.”

Aizawa sighed. He knew there was no arguing with you when you got in a mood like this, and besides...you were already there. 

And you were right.

Before he could even come up with something to say, the bell rang, signaling that it was time for lunch, and soon, you were walking down the hall between your two alphas, Eri riding on Deku’s shoulders as Class 1-A flooded out along with you. 

You ended up sitting in the mess hall with the students, sandwiched between Hizashi and Shota. Shota didn’t seem entirely pleased with it, mentioning several times that he’d much rather be in the teachers’ lounge where it was quieter, but Eri was far too happy to be with Class 1-A for him to actually tear her away from them. She was across from you, sitting next to Deku and a brown haired girl you learned was named Ochako. Mirio had left to go find his own friends, the other two members of The Big Three, and you could see him just a few tables over, laughing loudly with a blue haired girl with a boy with pointy ears looked like he was trying to will himself out of existence next to them. 

“It’s so exciting that Mr. Aizawa has a whole family!” Ochako said. 

“And with Present Mic, too,” Tsu, the frog girl, said from her spot next to her. 

“How long have you been together?” the pink girl, Mina, asked.

“Don’t ask so many personal questions! We should respect their privacy.” Iida said, in true class rep fashion. 

When Shota only offered a grunt in reply, too focused on his lunch to actually talk with his homeroom class, and with Hizashi already stuffing his face, you took it upon yourself to chat. 

“Oh, I don’t mind the questions!” you said with a good natured laugh. “I met Hizashi and Shota when we all went to school together. Then we lost touch, because I...well, I sort of...chose a different life path than they did.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Hizashi slurped up his soba. 

“Here.” you looked up to see Hitoshi had brought you and Eri each a tray of food, setting them down in front of the two of you. 

“You’re so good to your mother,” you cooed, reaching up to grab his cheek. 

He dodged you expertly, ducking out of the way and going to sit with Bakugou and his friends on Deku’s other side. You narrowed your eyes at him, making sure he knew that he couldn’t run forever, and as Denki watched the exchange, he spoke up. 

“...Wait. You didn’t become a pro hero?” he asked. 

“I took the hero course here at UA.” you explained, grabbing your chopsticks. “I ended up dropping out before graduation. This is actually my first time back since then.”

“So...” Deku seemed nervous. “Were you, uh...”

“A villain?” you asked. 

When he nodded quickly, you laughed and offered a nod of your own. 

“Yeah, I suppose I was. My quirk used to be wild, and hard to control...I got so frustrated when I wasn’t making any progress with it that I decided to just leave school. I was mad at everyone, and I fell in with people who felt the same way. One thing leads to another, and next thing you know, I’m running from the loudest, most obnoxious pro hero in the city.”

Everyone’s eyes turned to Hizashi, who was doing his best not to choke on his lunch. 

“And he never caught me,” you said adoringly, leaning against his shoulder. 

“I never caught you on my own,” he corrected. 

“Made my ears bleed a few times, I think.”

“Yes, and I don’t regret that.” he pressed a cute, fluttery little kiss against the tip of your nose. “You were absolutely going to kill me.”

“Not absolutely!” you protested. 

“I had to rescue him.” Aizawa spoke up, his voice gruff and tired, like always. “Had to cancel your quirk and keep you tied down until the others could get to us.”

You smirked at your first memory of his scarf and what it could do, and as you did so, he realized that he had just admitted to tying you up with it in front of his idiot students.

“And that’s when I fell in looooove,” you grabbed his arm, batting your lashes at him obnoxiously. 

“Not another word.” he growled. 

The students were all staring at you with wide eyes. All except Hitoshi, who was rolling his. 

“I guess you could say I was reformed,” you said, grabbing some noodles. “Then one thing led to another, and...here we are.” You patted your belly. 

“That’s so romantic,” Mina sighed, leaning her chin on her hand. 

“What’s your quirk?” Ochako asked. 

“I could show you!” you said eagerly, moving to stand.

“Absolutely not.” Shota held onto your arm and forced you to sit down again. “You are due in two weeks. No nonsense until after the pups are born.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes now. 

“Fine,” you mumbled with a sigh. “I never get to have fun anymore.”

“But pups are so exciting!” the invisible girl, Hagakure, said. 

“Yeah!” Mina agreed. 

Then, the rest of the girls bombarded you with questions. 

“How many are you having?”

“What day are they coming?!”

“Can we meet them?”

“Mr. Aizawa, please can you bring them in to the dorms??”

“--But Mr. Aizawa, this is the safest place in Japan. There’s no way anything bad would happen to them--”

“--And besides, (y/n) has a super strong quirk, right? She said so!”

“Come on, just let us see the brats when they’re old enough to travel.”

The sound of Bakugou’s voice had everyone staring at the blond boy. 

“...What?” he bristled. “It’s not like I care, I just want the girls to shut up.”

“Uh huh. Sure, Bakugou.” Kirishima snorted. 

“...maybe.” Aizawa relented, eager to shut them all up. 

That was enough for the girls, and they immediately began talking chattering about the cutest baby clothes, the best toys, and then the differences between their own upbringings. You enjoyed listening to them throughout the rest of lunch, and by the time the hour had ended, you were sad to be leaving. 

“Hang on, hang on,” Hizashi said as you took Eri’s hand to leave. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Home,” you furrowed your brow. “Why?”

“We told you,” Shota said, standing with his hands in his pockets. “We don’t want you wandering around the city.”

“And I told you, I’m fine--”

“Just stay here for the rest of the day.”

“...What?”

“We’ll all go home together later.” Hizashi smiled. “You and Eri can hang out in the lounge. I bet Midnight would love to pester you about the bump, too.”

You smiled, walking towards your alphas. “Alright. Alright, yeah. That sounds nice.”

As Class 1-A lingered at the end of the hall, watching for as long as they could get away with, Denki elbowed Hitoshi in the side. 

“Dude, your mom is--”

“Don’t you dare say hot.” Shinso growled. 

“Actually, I was gonna say badass, but that too--”

The purple haired boy glared at him. “Shut up, Denki.”

“What? It’s a compliment!”

[avidoro]

Holy crap. Finally home safe and sound and I am so ecstatic! First time flying. First time in New York City. First time seeing Beetlejuice the Musical and I loved every flipping moment of it! We had front row seats on September 30th. My friends managed to slap me dead ass center and it was absolutely amazing. I couldn’t be happier having Alex standing literally a foot away from me. He truly is a living cartoon character as I’ve always said and seeing him so close just proves it. He’s has so much expression and his mannerisms are great! I’m not sure what all changes have been noted but a few of the things that got me: He yelled “WAASSUUUUUUUUP!” when he popped out from behind the couch. Gently sticking his finger in Adam’s pocket and swirling it around when he said, “you make daddy so angry”. “Adam, what the shit is wrong with you?”

During his exit he sang “Jason Derulo” and during the second show we saw he yelled “FUCK BRIGADOON!” We had eight people in our front row group and our friend, Marq, was Alex’s target for the evening. We did not forewarn him about this and it was amazing seeing Marq’s reaction. He and his girlfriend absolutely enjoyed it and it was a great birthday gift to her. Marq got a kiss blown to him by Alex at curtain call. Something I’m quite envious of. Marq made sure to blow one back which appeared to make Alex very happy 😆 My friend, Gou, nearly got pelted by the cup that Alex threw which took her off guard, but she wishes it would have landed in front of her. During curtain call I pulled my phone out to record. Elizabeth saw me recording and pointed at me twice while she did her dance at the end! She’s too precious and I absolutely love her! My best friend’s husband, who hates musicals and was not keen on the idea of visiting NYC, only agreed to go see Beetlejuice the Musical because the movie is one of his absolute favorites. He went in expecting disappointment but left laughing and saying he absolutely wants to see it again but only front row. He also absolute adored Alex. In my book this is a total SUCKS YES! We saw the show again on the 2nd. Act 1 was full of goofups but I love seeing goofs in live shows! Almost lost the handbook to the trap door and Alex just stared at it for a minute. It was hanging on by a thread. The squeaky sound effect when Betelgeuse gooses Adam didn’t go off. The suicide note didn’t ignite. Delia’s dress didn’t attach to the pig so her dress never unraveled. Gou told me, during Act 2, the sound effect for Adam knocking on the door at the end of the show didn’t match up to David’s motion. Alex also blessed the audience with a very loud “WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” at the end of That Beautiful Sound that had the audience responding similarly 😂 The free swag for Sunday was a slap bracelet lol I didn’t get an October Playbill which made me sad. THEY HAVE SANDWORM PLUSHES NOW!! I also got to go see Curtain Up very close to the front and hear Alex and Elizabeth perform Say My Name. They did a brief interview as well. Alex was a goof, as always, and Elizabeth was just adorable! I took more time, the second show, to really look at the mural. I was dragged back to my own piece by Gou and my best friend’s aunt because they saw someone taking photos of my artwork. They insisted on telling them I was the artist and we had a brief discussion about it. It made me happy hearing that they loved my piece enough to take a photo to send to a friend! I was then asked to take a photo of a family in front of the mural only for my best friend’s aunt to insist they sit in front of my piece. I hate bringing attention to myself but they were so confused as to why she was making them move that I had to explain to them why she was doing it and I apologized. But instead the insisted that I not take their photo but instead get in the photo with them and it was really sweet! I don’t know what else to say except this has been amazing and I’m so happy I got to see it before the show closes in January. I wish I could see it one last time but I will forever cherish what I got.

[tinyyoungblood]

OOO OK hear me out: headcanon of midnight fast food runs with all the avengers. somehow everyone’s awake at 3 am so everyone gets piled into a car, half asleep, peter driving and y/n playing the best music, just to walk into like mcdonald’s and getting recognized and it’s just the best thing ever

a/n: you creative child, this is brilliant!! thank u for sending it in :’) here you go, another headcanon bc this is how i cope lol enjoy

pairing: peter parker x avenger!reader

              ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the avengers + 3 am midnight runs

it’s 3:30 am and it’s one of those nights

no can sleep, everyone is awake for various reasons and they’re all sick of blindly tossing around. then they hear the elevator ding from out the hallway and they immediately perk up

they all get up at the same time and open their doors at the same time

bruce: “we have to stop spending so much time together”

then they silently shuffle toward the elevator to see who it is

thor, peter and y/n step out, all holding a venti iced latte and a mcmuffin and everyone acts like it’s grossing them out because it’s too early for food

but their eyes meet and it’s one of those moments where you know you’re about to do something careless and stupid but you do it anyway

they all squeeze into the elevator in their pyjamas without uttering a word and wiggle their way into the 10 passenger van they always use for bonding trips

y/n, peter and thor follow without protest bc Sleep Is For The Weak

peter somehow ends up in the driver’s seat while y/n gets to drive shotgun and no one notices bc everyone’s too busy fighting tooth and nail to get some room but then the car almost hits a lantern and someone screams

(it was loki)

“sHIT eyes on the road stark!!!” “wilson, i’m sitting right next to you?” “then who’s driving”

y/n, cheerily: “peter is!” “yep! and i think i’m doing a pretty good job too! can you believe i’ve only driven in parking lots and once in a car chase? funny right” “yOU WHAT-“

y/n switches to random stations to have it play quietly in the background but then ‘driver’s license’ comes on and peter whoops and rolls down the windows while y/n yanks up the volume

the avengers are flabbergasted because why are the younglings getting so excited about a song that is about heartbreak?

30 seconds later, they get it

sam pulls up lyrics, tony and nat chime in on the chorus with peter and y/n, and the others pull out flashlights and lighters to hold them up

bucky tries to wipe away his tears without anyone noticing, and steve smirks at him because ofc he saw it. he’s not impressed when bucky hisses at him

and then the bridge hits and everyone loses their minds

safety is thrown to the wind, everyone rolls down their windows and sticks out their heads and arms while screaming the lyrics at the top of their lungs

it’s too cinematic to be real tbh but it’s GREAT

and that’s how the longest night of the year starts. not technically, but it sure feels like it because so much happens

mcdonald’s is lawless land and the avengers are on a mission to wholeheartedly contribute to the vibe

some guy waiting in line: “hey aren’t you the god of thunder? you’re an avenger right?”

thor, literally carrying mjolnir and very obviously traveling with the team: “never heard of them”

clint is an old man and it’s clearly past his bed time but he refuses to be left out of this, so he fluctuates between napping the moment they sit down and trying to drag everyone along to wander around

steve is 100% that one super super nice stranger you start a super deep conversation with and it leaves you in a great mood for the rest of the night

he even ends up exchanging numbers with a nice lady that does art workshops so now steve has a new place to flaunt his artistic vein :)

it’s literally 3 am but nat and loki look flawless. it’s ridiculous. they’re sauntering through this place, looking like the gods of hell, and leaving other insomniacs utterly speechless

they’re all turning their heads to stare after them because have they officially lost their minds? how does one look so intimidating but so magnificent

tony is the king of insomnia, he’s INVENTED it and it’s his city now, but once he’s out he’s out and no one has the heart to wake him up

he falls asleep in the most uncomfortable positions/places all night

he’s literally on top of a stranger’s car and they really have to go and the avengers are all shoving each other to be the one who has to interrupt his precious sleep

eventually bucky ends up carrying tony and he wakes up as they’re walking back

tony, patting bucky on the cheek before hopping down: “thanks buck”

peter being a class one protégé and passionate insomniac himself follows in his mentor’s footsteps and falls asleep everywhere, and although it’s kinda concerning, the team understands it shows his trust in them

he gets used to waking up in steve or thor’s arms

one time sam tossed him over his shoulder to get back to the car and peter is aghast, he is appalled, how dare he not carry him bridal style like the rest of the avengers, he deserves it-

they go get frozen yoghurt and steve only wants the healthy mango sorbet but y/n convinces him to try some of hers, which is vanilla chocolate fudge and oreo pieces

“that’s awful” “you want another bite” “yes”

(steve rogers is a whore for chocolate but you’ll never see him admit it)

nat challenges clint and bruce to fill their cups as high as possible so now they’re all stretched out on their stomaches on the floor by the yoghurt machines, ankles crossed, and navigating their cups to make the highest frozen yoghurt tower the world has ever seen

this starts a whole series of competitions in the middle of the store including who can leg press the most people

it ends up being a tie between steve, bucky, thor, and peter. they each had nat, tony, bruce AND loki and didn’t even break a sweat

“y/n, close your mouth”

but the night eventually does come to an end and everyone is huddled inside the van, some are already lightly snoring, and tony’s driving

once they’re back at the compound they don’t feel like parting ways though, so they wordlessly go to their rooms to grab all the pillows and blankets they can find

once they’re all sprawled on the ground in the living room, sleep comes easily especially after a night like that <3

* * *

stay hydrated pals

hc masterlist

[imagineyouandharry]

Gypsophila (H.S)

Summary: Prince Harry has been under great pressure to find a wife, and he finds his Queen in a way far more unconventional than he could’ve imagined. 

Words: 5,730

Warnings: It’s a bit strange I guess? Idk lol.

A/N: Someone requested a Prince!Harry au forever ago, and then I didn’t really have an opportunity to write for a while, and then this idea sprung up on me and I’ve been lost in this little au for the past few days. It’s like a little twisted fairytale, taking inspiration from Snow White and Sleeping Beauty mostly. Part two is already a work in progress. If people are interested I’ll even put out a little sort of world building lore post with a map of the kingdom etc (I’ve been in DEEP). This part is a bit choppy and barely edited because I was just so eager to write it and get something out, but I would really appreciate any constructive criticism and editing notes! TYSM!! Long story short, enjoy!!!

 ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Harry Edward Styles did not believe in true love, in fact, he thought it was the most ridiculous idea ever. Harry’s certain he’s laid eyes upon every eligible young lady, from his kingdom and the ones surrounding, and he hadn’t felt a single thing when looking at any of them. He prayed every night that he would find his love the next day, and finally be able to put his parents out of their misery and ascend to the throne. At the age of 27, Harry’s the oldest person in his family to not be married, no one every waited this long in the royal family. He would’ve had an arranged marriage at 21, though when his parents suggested that he ran away on a sailing ship for two months. One thing was clear to him: though he may not have experienced love yet, he wasn’t going to ruin his chances at true by being forced into a loveless marriage. It wasn’t only Harry’s parents, but the entire kingdom that woke each day hoping to hear that their Prince had found his Queen. They referred to Harry as the Good Prince, his subjects adored him, and lived for his acts of charity and selflessness, and they only hoped he would find a Queen that would treat them the same.

Harry’s outlook on love changed however, after his most recent hunting trip. Sundays are for family and hunting, that’s what Harry was always told. No day was for Harry, he’d come to learn that. Living under a microscope meant for very little alone time, and almost no guilt-free alone time. He and his hunting party rode across the fields and out to the dense forest surrounding the kingdom, and over the two hour journey Harry found himself agitated with the topics of conversation going on around him. He wanted a break, tired of everyone only ever speaking about royal duties or politics. Harry had discovered a fresh water lake if he went off the trail, and when he realised they were edging closer to his favourite place he decided to excuse himself with the excuse of needing to fill his canteen.

The natural spring was a hidden treasure indeed. Harry’s entire kingdom was cut off from the rest of the world due to the thick forestland surrounding it. There was only one trail in, and one trail out, and even then only experienced riders were able to make the journey. The end of the trail, in the deep of the forest, was also often lined with thieves and outcasts making it not the safest journey. This spring wasn’t necessarily hard to find, however thick trees that lined the main trail hid the spring, the gorgeous wild flowers, and clearing of soft grass either side. Harry tied his horse to his usual tree, softly parting the bushes careful to not cause any permanent damage, and stepped his way through. His kingdom was full of hidden treasures like this, tucked away in places only to be found by those adventurous enough.

The sound of the running water was most prominent, however the closer he walked to the spring, the more he could hear a faint, delicate singing voice. Harry couldn’t recognise the song, but it was one he’d never forget now. It felt as though his heart dropped in his stomach, and he had to lightly scratch his arm on a branch to double check he hasn’t died and was hearing an angel of heaven sing to him. He walked closer, with quiet footsteps so not to disturb the singing. He knelt down to the edge of the spring and began to fill his canteen, looking around his eyes eventually focused on the source of his siren, standing in the clearing over the other side of the spring as she picked a bouquet of dainty flowers. Lavender, daisies, bellflowers, poppies. Her body was dressed in sage green, the simple dress showed she definitely was not from a wealthy family, but it was simple and beautiful in its own way. Perhaps she sewed it herself, it did look as if it were made for her. He could see her hair shine from here, and the features of her side profile were striking him even from a distance. She didn’t look real. The strange girl across the spring looked ethereal, like her beauty was too surreal for this planet. Had he hit his head? Was he seeing a forest fairy? He hadn’t even realised the staggering increase in his heart rate as he watched the girl, and listened.

He lost track of how long he had been watching her for, snapped out of his daydream when he heard a “Your Royal Highness! We must be getting on!” Harry heard shouting at him from a distance, most likely back where he had tied his horse. The girl had heard the faint noise and her eyes shot in Harry’s direction. His cheeks flushed with heat as their eyes met only for a brief second, before she ran away. The eye contact brought a slight curve to his lips, although she was leaving, at least he got another good look at her.

“Wait!” He called as he stood up, his hand and canteen dripping wet. His eyes softened as she simply left, looking back briefly in her stride, but he’d blown it. “God fucking damn it.” He cursed under his breath as he began to trudge back to his horse, his feet weighing heavy on the ground.

That was the most he’d ever felt, looking at the stranger across the lake singing as if it were for him, and he couldn’t help but feel like he’d just lost his future Queen. Half of him wanted to wade through the water and run after her, but Harry wasn’t a often disobedient Prince, when one of his parents or advisors told him to jump, his usual response would be “how high?” It’s ironic how for someone who’s whole life depends on finding his future Queen is given so little time to actually explore a social life, or love life himself. He was always set up with suitors who his parents found best. In the rare times he’s able to sneak away he’d gotten around, and most definitely wasn’t a virgin, but he’d never found a girl who had made him feel the way he wanted to feel about his future queen. He only wanted to please his family, and his realm, but this was the one thing where he refused to compromise.

Y/N was as far away from a future queen as it could come, or at least that’s what her step-mother wanted everyone to think. The entire town hoped to marry their daughters off to the elusive Good Prince Harry, however her step-mother only wanted her biological daughters to have that chance. When Y/N’s father passed away her step-mother sent her out to live as a recluse in a tiny cottage in the woods, she had always feared that her beauty would distract future husbands away from her actual daughters, and didn’t want to ruin their chance of being married. Each Sunday she drops Y/N off the supplies she needs, but that was the only human contact she was given. It wasn’t too bad, she managed to keep herself busy with sewing, baking, or whatever other art or craft she could think of and had the materials for. It was lonely though, and she was ultimately alone.

Well, if you don’t count forest fairies. Y/N hated being outcast into the forest, and spent most of her early months in the cottage crying to whatever wild animal she could find that day that would stick around long enough. Eventually, these wild animals started bringing their fairy friends along with them. They would spend their days with Y/N tending to fruit and vegetable gardens, watering plants, having picnics, and making daisy chains. Her life was simple, and although not one she asked, it was one she was growing fond of. Male company was something she could only imagine and long for, or read about in story books. There were dozens of fairies living in the forest, but she’d become particularly close to a group of some of the female fairies.

Each Sunday before her step mother visits, Y/N will pick her step mother a bouquet of flowers in attempt to win her over, in hopes maybe one day her sweetness will earn her way back into town. Y/N had total obliviousness towards her step mother’s plan, and towards what was going on in the city. This year, any woman over the age of 21 was to present herself to the Prince. Y/N’s 21st birthday fell on the day she was scheduled to be presented to the Prince. The letter had been delivered shortly before she was sent away to the forest, Y/N never laid her eyes upon it though. The letter outlined the royal guard would be coming to collect anyone who failed to present themselves on the day, and to Y/N’s step mother that meant the only option was to make it so Y/N never turned 21, or made it to her birthday for that matter.

Seeing the Prince most definitely did spook Y/N during that day in the field, if her step mother ever found out she’d had contact with a male there was no chance she’d ever be allowed to move back home. She did all she could think to do. She ran. She ran so fast that the petals of the flowers she had picked were ruined in her haste, quickly shutting herself inside the cottage to gather herself before her routine afternoon visit from her step mother. Sure she knew of men to be dangerous and terrible, but she feared her step-mother’s wrath more than anything any man could put her through.

Like any other Sunday, she scrubbed the house and dressed herself in whatever new garment she had stitched herself this week. The fairies had been busy this week and she’d had a great deal of time to herself, embroidering colourful flowers into the soft white linen of the new dress she had made. Her step-mother would bring her fabric and thread to sew dresses for her step sisters. It was something to be proud of, but most likely would be over looked. Little was said upon her step-mother’s arrival, but her character seemed off. Her step-mother’s eyes darted around, checking windows as she insisted on making the two of them tea. Y/N sat down at the small dining table, recounting tales of her week, ensuring to leave out anything about fairies or a boy. She watched a small bunny outside the window, forgetting to speak as awe overwhelmed her whilst she watched its tiny nose twitch. Her daydream came to an end when the sound of the ceramic mug hit the hard wood of the coffee table. “Drink while it’s warm, my love.” Her step-mother told her, sitting down in the seat at the head of the table beside Y/N. It wasn’t long after that that Y/N hit the floor, and her step-mother was shrouding herself in a hooded coat and sneaking out of the tiny cabin.

Elsie, a fairy most close to Y/N, who specialises in healing, came to the conclusion that she was only out for about six hours before the fairies found her. They did all they could over the following weeks to bring her back to life, trying as many possible rituals, potions, and spells to give life to her body once more. Nothing was of use though, and instead they decided to preserve her in a glass case in the clearing amongst the wildflowers. She had professed to them that the clearing by the spring had been her favourite place, so they saw this fit. Preserving her in the glass case was simply because the idea of her beauty decaying away made any of the fairies shriek. Fairies never communicated with humans, however Y/N was different. Elsie had always theorised that Y/N had magic in her blood. Amongst the many spells and rituals they tried to bring Y/N back, they threw in a spell that would hopefully bring her back with true love’s kiss. It was like a safety net, or a ‘what if?’ But they eventually tired and wore out, preserving her was well enough for now. They kept her dressed in the new dress she had crafted for herself, it was so beautiful after all. They had placed tiny baby’s breath flowers throughout her hair, and made sure everything was perfect. They even went as far to adorn her in delicate gold jewellery, with beautiful crystals of all colours. Her body rested upon a large rectangular slab of rose quartz.

****

Harry was dreading sitting in the throne room, while all the eligible females from the town were presented to him like livestock. It made him sick, and left a terrible taste in his mouth. All he could think of was the girl from the clearing. Is she a sign? Is he his ticket out of here? Was seeing her fate? Questions like that simmered over his mind and kept him awake at night, he had been sleeping little and finding it hard to focus on his duties. His best friend Niall was he closest confidant, the only one he had told about the beautiful girl in the clearing that day. Niall cared more for Harry than anyone, really. He didn’t just care about his fame or power or wealth, Harry was his best friend and he hated seeing his best mate so down about his love life and the pressure to marry a woman he doesn’t love. He made it his mission to find the woman, and his detective work lead him down a path he didn’t expect at all. First he went to the clearing where Harry filled his water in the spring, that was where he first noticed something over the other side of the spring that he couldn’t quite make out. He followed the spring and found an area narrow enough to cross, making his way to the structure he’d seen earlier. He didn’t know what to make of this discover, a dead girl in a glass coffin. ‘Forever at rest, only to be woken by true love’s kiss’ read an inscription on a gold plaque. He really didn’t know what to make of this. He didn’t know what to tell Harry.

Sweat lingered Niall’s brow as he made his way back to the castle to find Harry, to tell him of his discovery. “Look… I just need you to come with me and tell me what you think when we’re there.” Niall tells him, his voice somewhat breathless. Niall himself was still in disbelief, shock, his eyes wide as he shook his head. “I just- I don’t know what to tell you. You need to see it for yourself.” He adds.

Harry nods. “I’ll come immediately.” Harry tells him, his trust for Niall outweighing anything else going on in his head. Together they rode to the forest, crossed the narrow part of the spring, and towards where Niall had discovered Y/N.

“Is this the girl you were talking about?” Niall asks, however when he looks from the girl to Harry, he knows the answer. Harry couldn’t help but fall to his knees, pressing his palms against the glass as he looked inside. He noticed how long her eyelashes looked, and the freckles on her nose. His nose was almost touching the glass as he leant here on his knees at the side of her, taking her in up close.

“What happened to you?” He whispers, his eyebrows knitting together. Niall gives him a moment before he decides to mention the plaque at the foot of the structure.

“It uh, says something weird about being awoken by true love’s kiss. I don’t know if it’s true, and it’s revolting to think you would kiss a dead body for nothing, but someone has put her here. Someone made this. My grandmother in her old age would mutter stories about forest fairies and their magic… It just makes you wonder, you know?” He ponders, his eyes wandering away. It felt silly to bring up magic, it was something very commonly dismissed.

“Help me get this off.” Harry said as he brought himself from the ground, the soft grass had left green stains on his tan riding pants. He pushed the sleeves of his white linen button down up past his elbows, and the two men carefully lift the heavy glass case up off of the rose quartz Y/N had been resting on. It wasn’t easy, and the glass at the bottom dug into Harry’s fingers before they set the glass piece of the structure down on to the grass. “Alright. Here we go.” Harry said, in attempt to psych himself up for kissing a dead girl. She didn’t look dead though, just sleeping, you could only tell she was dead due to the missing rising and fall in her chest with her breath. “I might start walking back to the horses, give you some privacy.” Niall said, giving him a slight smile. He also didn’t really want to witness someone kiss a dead person, if she didn’t end up waking up.

“Good luck. Take your time.” He adds, part of him had no doubt it was going to work though. The stories his grandmother would tell him of the forest fairies were something he’d always held on to, those stories were amongst his most treasured memories. He’d always had some hope.

Harry waited until he could no longer hear Niall’s footsteps before he leant down close to Y/N, brushing a strand of hair back behind her ear. He took a moment, if this never worked it was going to be the last time he’d ever see her. He couldn’t fathom coming back to this spot if this didn’t work. His heart began to ache at the thought, it made his chest feel tight, and gave him the urge to rub at the spot.

“I really hope you’re who I think you are.” He whispers as he looks down at her. “This might seem like absolute madness. I don’t even know your name, but if you wake up for me, I swear to you I will be yours forever.” He began, to Harry this almost did feel like a ritual, it felt special, and the words he was speaking were amongst the most genuine he’d ever given life to. “I promise, I will protect you. I will provide for you. I will love you. I will never, ever harm you. I will love you until my very last breath, I just need you to do this one thing for me.” His voice was barely a whisper now, and breaking as hot tears welled in his eyes. He very carefully leant down, pressing his warm, puffy lips against her cold, smooth ones. He didn’t know how long to wait, but it didn’t feel wrong. It was a sweet, tender kiss. His eyes closed, and he felt at peace. It felt more than at peace. The long grass, wildflowers, and tree branches that surrounded them began to stir with wind, petals floating up into the gusts that took them. This girl had a tendency to make him feel like he’s dead and in heaven. Her lips slowly began to warm, and skin began to glow with heat. It felt like they were floating, as if the universe was made up of just the two of them. The flowers beneath him began to grow taller and more dense, and it began to feel like his heart was pulling towards hers. It felt like a tether had been formed, connecting their energy, he could feel as her heart began to pump blood again, and her energy radiate from her skin. It felt too surreal.

Slowly, Harry removed his lips to allow Y/N to breathe. He let a hand lay gently resting on her cheek as he watched her gasp for her first new breath, eyes shooting open as she looked up at him. It wasn’t shock she was met with when her eyes met Harry’s, but peace. The luminous green eyes that were gazing down upon her were like lighthouses, guiding her towards safety. So many questions began to race her mind as she came to reality, unable to decide which one to ask first. As if based on intuition, Harry decided to speak. “I uh- I’m not too sure what happened to you but my friend found you here today and brought me to you. I believe I saw you a few weeks ago, in the same spot. I’m not sure how long you’ve been out here, but there was this little plaque at the end of this thing here, that said something about a kiss to wake you up… I’m sorry for kissing you without your consent, but I couldn’t risk not taking this chance.” He didn’t mean to ramble or to overwhelm her with his spiel, but he was overwhelmed himself with everything that had just gone on. True love’s kiss. His queen. His true love. The other half of his soul, in human form. Y/N’s lips parted as if to speak, but nothing came out. She closed them once more as she sat up and looked around, swinging her legs off the side of the marble before looking back up to Harry. Her movement had disconnected his hand from her face, and they both longed for each other’s touch once more already. Her eyes began to well with tears as she began to think about how she got here, her last memories.

“I can only assume how overwhelming this must all be for you… We can stay here as long as you need, it’s just us. When you feel ready for it, I can take you back to my home and we can get you showered and fed. I don’t mean you any harm.” Harry doesn’t even need to add that last sentence though, because she can feel it. She can feel his love for her, she could almost hear it if she listened closely enough, as if his heart was now beating a song for her.

Harry stood back, as if to give the doe eyed girl some space. She looked at him as if he was the most precious treasure on Earth, he’d never felt so overwhelmed with love. This was followed by her delicate hands reaching out, taking ahold of his as she brought herself to stand in front of him. “Is it alright if you hold me for a second?” She asked softly, needing time to process things.

It had been so long since she had been touched affectionately, she couldn’t really remember it. Her father was never affectionate, nor her step mother or step sisters or anyone else she’d met. She felt comfortable with the stranger in front of her though, and didn’t have the energy to resist the magnet like force pulling her towards him.

“Of course.” He responds, his voice soft as he wraps his arms gently around her frame, pulling her into his warm figure. Harry was like the perfect, giant teddy bear… but he wasn’t really that soft. Pressed against him she could feel how chiseled his features are. Her arms wrapped around his waist as she relaxed into him, cheek against the skin of his chest kindly revealed by the first few buttons of his shirt being undone. “What’s your name?” He asks, tangling his fingers in her hair to lightly rub his fingertips against the tender skin at the back of her neck.

“Y/N Y/L/N. Yours?” She asks, looking up to the tall, broad man.

“Harry.” He decides on leaving out his royal title or last name.

“Just Harry?” She asks, her eyebrows raising.

“For now. We have plenty of time to talk about me later.” He notes, removing the same rogue strand of hair as before from her cheek, tucking it behind her ear. It was almost as if her hair had a life of its own, breathing, like the other flora growing in the forest. He had noticed the baby’s breath in her hair, though her hair moved, they remained in the same places, as if growing out of their place on the strand of hair. “What do you last remember?” He asks, needing to know if whatever put her in eternal sleep had been by accident, or as an act of malice. She looks back away from his face, resting her cheek once more against his chest.

“My step-mother, Styephania came over, she made me tea. That’s all I can really remember.” She said, unable to stop the disappointed sigh from escaping her lips. Maybe she’d had a freak health accident, like a stroke. Just because she’d been mistreated by her step mother her whole life, didn’t mean she was capable of murder. She knew her step mother didn’t put her out here though, this was the work of fairies. They were looking on, hiding in the bushes as they stood witness to young love blossom in front of them, not wanting to disturb the two of them. “I look crazy, and it sounds crazier saying this, but I’m certain the forest fairies are responsible for looking after me and putting me here. The day she came over was the day I think you saw me here, and I’m not sure how I’m meant to feel but I don’t feel like I’ve been a dead body since then. I feel like no time has passed at all.” Harry avidly listened to her speak, her voice like caramel, seeping in his ears and warming his whole body. Harry wasn’t phased by her mentioning fairies, Niall had suspecting this being their work earlier. It was the only explanation Harry could think of. He couldn’t understand why her step mother would leave her here, why she wouldn’t find her help.

He didn’t want to worry his sweet girl now, he wanted to make sure she felt alright, safe, and cared for. His grip on her wasn’t too tight, but firm in a comforting way. “The plaque… It mentioned how you’d only be woken by true love’s kiss.” He figured the longer he waited to tell her the stranger it would be. His cheeks were red, as if embarrassed or ashamed to tell her about the plaque, how strange it all was. Her eyes met his, and the connection gave him whiplash. He couldn’t peel his eyes away, getting lost in the little pools. He wanted to know everything about her, what she liked, disliked, what she ate for breakfast, her favourite songs, flowers, secrets. Everything.

“I don’t know if I know what love feels like. The only men I’ve spoken to are all twice my age. I wasn’t really allowed to see boys. You’re definitely much, much more beautiful than I would’ve imagined a man to be, and I’m certain that my heart is literally beating for you now, since you woke me.” She tells him, the descriptions of heroes in stories she would read, or how she would imagine the older men to look when they were younger, were incomparable to Harry. The compliment made his cheeks flush. With each beat of her heart, it was as if it was pulling her closer to Harry, calling out for him, begging for him to love on her and soothe the ache in her chest.

“How has God made something so sweet?” He mumbles, he hadn’t even realised he’d said it out loud at first. “You’re breath taking. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes upon, and trust me when I say I’ve seen a lot of them. Even from far away, the first time I saw you… You make me nervous. You make my heart race, and my palms sweat, and I get butterflies in my stomach and nervous when I think about saying the wrong thing or not having you like me. It’s as if you’ve been carved by God himself, like he was showing off when he made you so beautiful. I wish I’d met you sooner.” Those last words burn his throat, how easier the last few years would have been if he had just been able to find her sooner.

*****

Harry sent Niall back to the castle first, having him instruct everyone to clear out the path that the Prince and his soon to be queen would take to his suite, he didn’t want to spook her with people around. The guards had to stay though, non-negotiable. He also had Niall ensure the doctor was on standby, just to check on Y/N and stay in the castle over the upcoming weeks in case anything else happened. Security was going to be increased, and tightened, and a warrant put out for her step mother.

The two hour horseback ride to the castle would give them well enough time to get to know each other, Harry and Niall had also switched horses, Niall’s being the slower of the two. “I don’t want to startle you when we get there. I also don’t know how to really tell you this. I’m in the royal family, so the guards and whatnot are something to just be ignored. They’re for your protection. I don’t know if you heard much of what I was telling Niall earlier, but you’re going to be very safe here, and we’ll find out what happened. I’ll look after you, I promise.” His eyes are ahead as he speaks, looking over the vast green fields ahead of them once they eventually emerged from the forest.

“Still just Harry, to me.” She reassured, sensing his nerves about revealing this information to her. His shoulders relaxed at her reaction, and a smile formed on his lips when his mind began to wander into what their future may be like. His queen.

“Hey, one day that’ll be King Harry to you.” He joked, thankful that it was received with a laugh. Her laughter was almost as sweet as her songs, and for the rest of the journey he made it his mission to mine as many possible laughs out of her as he could, like little nuggets of treasure. After making their way through the fields that lined the forest, they went down a long road that served as a divide between two of the castle’s towns, and at the end of that road just past a small valley of mountains was a sight far more glorious than Y/N had imagined. Her village was a small village that contained mostly candlemakers and dressmakers, and it sat further to the east, people only ever going out there to purchase fine candles and clothing. It was niche though, and not many could afford the fineries the master crafters in her village would create. Y/N hadn’t even really seen a home larger than a cottage, Harry’s castle looked large enough as if it could contain its own little world, a complete wilderness of towers surrounded by fine gardens, protected by a large moat with a standalone drawbridge. Harry didn’t even need to announce himself, the drawbridge was already in the process of being lowered for him.

“I had Niall clear our path, I don’t want to overwhelm you. I’ll introduce you to everyone when you’re ready.” Harry reassures her, she hadn’t even thought of anyone else though, too in awe of the sights around her. Flowers she’d never seen before laced these gardens, with fine marble sculptures and fountains protruding from them.

“I can’t believe this is your home.” Y/N whispers, unable to think of anything else to say.

“Your home too, if you’d like.” Harry replies, though his words immediately shrouded him with nerves about rushing Y/N into anything. It was stupid, they were each other’s true love’s, but it felt wrong being strangers, so Harry tried his best to conceal things. He’d never been in a conventional relationship before, never mind whatever this arrangement is or was going to be. He just knew he wasn’t meant to rush things, so he tried to refrain from expressing his feelings as best as he could. Her arms around his waist tightened, Y/N needing to feel as close to Harry as possible. He held the reins in one hand, the other arm resting over hers around his stomach, holding on to her arm to make sure she couldn’t let go.

“I’d like that.” Y/N reassures, gently rubbing his side to soothe him. Harry was too caught up in his own feelings to pay attention to how calm Y/N was. She could feel his anxiety though, and continued to try to soothe him as best she could. Y/N knew very little about Harry so far, but what she did know was that he was kind, caring, and had a lot of worries. She’d never been a worrisome person, and if anything would even refer to herself as naive, it was something she’d always been almost ashamed of but in this moment felt like maybe she’d been made to be by Harry’s side. Y/N liked the idea of spending her days being Harry’s rock, a voice of reason. She’d rather a man like this than one who had no emotions, that was for sure. It could’ve been whatever was now eternally bonding them, but she swears she was feeling his emotions, able to see his aura if she really studied hard enough. She sunk into him some more, her arms around his waist, cheek resting against his back. Harry made sure to take it extra slow, giving his love enough time to appreciate the flowers. She seemed to like flowers, and his mother took pride in this being the most beautiful garden amongst all of the kingdoms. He couldn’t wait to show her all the fineries that came with his life.

[dontaskmetodivide]

HIII I was wondering if you could do a one shot smut thing of Y/N and H getting high at a party and then like you sneak away and have a rough quicke? No pressure

based off this ask!! i most certainly can do this, hope you enjoy. i totally got carried away with the weed parts, but i couldn’t help it. i love writing bad ass girl characters who know what the hell they’re doing when it comes to smoking lol. 

tw: smut, posessive shit ig, yeah thats it, idk how to do tw

Harry’s tight grip on your hand is the only thing keeping you balanced as people on the make-shift dance floor are being knocked into you from every direction. Niall’s house party had definitely gone a little overboard, but you’re still enjoying yourself even if the night had only just begun.

The room smells of sweat and alcohol and you can almost see the condensation on the expensively decorated walls from all the bodies crowding the place. Colored strobe lights are the only thing illuminating the expensive penthouse living room and the bass from the speakers can be felt through the floor and up your feet. 

Harry doesn’t enjoy these parties as much as you, and while you were both homebodies at heart, you really did enjoy just letting loose and having fun once every now and then. 

You knock into your boyfriend’s body as he abruptly stops to slide open the balcony door. You had only just arrived and said hello to a few guests, stopping at the bar top after Niall begged to do group shots, before Harry was trying to escape the crowded living space. 

As he pulls you onto the balcony over looking the Colorado city below, the cool night air hits your skin and it feels like you can sigh of relief, finally getting a chance to air the sweat off your body that had so quickly accumulated. 

“Styles!” You hear to your left, both you and Harry turning your heads to see Liam and Zayn, as well as another party goer you hadn’t met before, sitting around a glass top table with a few ashtrays on top. “I told you he’d show.” Liam smacks Zayn’s shoulder who is puffing a blunt between his lips, not paying attention to Liam. 

Harry leads you to the table, sitting in a chair first before pulling you sideways onto his lap, lingering his hands on your thighs. “In the flesh.” Harry announces his entrance with a forced smile. 

Liam flicks his lighter on the dull end of his joint, rekindling the flame, and then tosses it to Harry, who catches it amazingly in one hand. You lace your arm around his neck and connect your hands on the side of his shoulder, hanging onto him like a koala bear. The contact causes Harry to lean forward and press a quick kiss to your cheek, almost out of reflex, before reaching into his front pocket of his very loosely buttoned shirt. 

He pulls out a joint and brings it to his mouth, letting it hang between his lips while he cups the flame from the lighter in his hands and brings it to the end of the joint. He lights it and lets a the first puff of smoke leave his mouth before he inhales a deep breath, the cherry butt lighting up brighter, and then he’s blowing the smoke out of the corner of his mouth after holding it for a second. 

The other boys at the table have already drifted into their own conversation, so it feels quite peaceful between you and Harry at the moment.

One of your favorite things to do with Harry on special occasions is smoke. Well, smoke and then fuck. You both are the kind to get super turned on when you’re high and it works perfectly for nights when you both just want to relax and spend time together. You never do it too often, neither of you wanting to rely on drugs or sex for any parts of the relationship, but it is definitely a sweet treat when the occasion arises. 

He repeats his movements from before, inhaling the smoke, holding it and exhaling it, keeping his eyes focused on his hands as he taps a small amount of ash off the end of it and onto the concrete patio flooring. 

To hell with the three ashtrays on the table, right?

His eyes flick up to yours, silently asking if you want some so you nod. He watches the joint as he places it between your lips, your two finger instinctively coming up to grasp the joint from him. As you puff on the joint, Harry’s olive green eyes trace over your face, repeatedly landing on your eyes and lips. 

You take it out of your mouth, jumping at the chance to attach your lips to his, not wanting to wait any longer to kiss him. He inhales the smoke for your lungs, quite literally taking your breath away, and when he pulls back to release the smoke, tilting his head straight up to the sky, you can’t help but let your mind wander as your eyes trace over his feeble neck. 

“Tha’s supposed to be my move.” He says as he looks back at you with a grin, but you just shrug and smile softly. 

“Sue me.” You tell him under your breath and you can’t help your eyes going back to his lips. 

“You wanna go-” Harry starts saying quietly, inching your faces closer before he gets unknowingly interrupted. 

“So Styles,” The man that I do not know starts saying, which makes Harry clench his jaw as he turns his attention to the cock block. “How’d your bet go on that game the other night?”

The conversation steers straight to sports topics, and you begin to find your only entertainment in the weed on the table, you and Harry quickly finishing the previously rolled joint. You turn your back to Harry so you can face the table, making sure to swivel your hips in just the right place to tease him, which has him harshly gripping your hip as he tries to remain focused on the conversation at hand. 

You take your time as you roll a blunt with the supplies on the table, trying your best to keep it all together in one piece. Harry always makes fun of your scrawny blunts, but you’ve been getting a lot better at rolling, especially with his help. 

You follow all the steps to curate the best blunt you can, focusing so intently that the conversation in the background has drowned out. You unpack a swisher sweet, unroll it, empty most of the tobacco, grind up the weed on hand, pepper it into the tobacco paper, and finish it by licking the seal shut, slightly crisping it with your lighter. 

Once you’re finished and your astonishing masterpiece is complete, you lean back on Harry’s chest, exhaling with relief. He wraps his arm around your stomach while still keeping his attention on whatever they’re speaking about, even though Harry is barely talking. 

You hold up your freshly rolled blunt in his eye line, forcing him to give you attention. “Tell me that’s not the best blunt I’ve ever rolled.” You snicker while twirling the thin stick in your finger tips. 

He hums in response, the sound going straight into your ears from his chest since you’re pressed so close together. “Beautiful craftsmanship.” He applauds as he raises one of his hands to take the blunt from you and inspect it more closely. You drop your hands to your chest, reaching in front of you to grab a lighter from the table. “I’d say you have one hell of a teacher.”

You sit up and shuffle around to be sat sideways on his lap again to share the joint. You enjoy the blunt in comfortable silence this time, just taking in each other’s motions and movements while passing it back and forth. You can tell you’re both way more high than before you smoked this one, but it’s only adding to the intensity between you two. 

Harry has excused himself from the conversation at this point and by the time the blunt is finished you get back around to what Harry was going to ask before he was interrupted. “How about I take you inside,” He says as he lightly traces a piece of hair behind your ear, “And find an empty room,” He leans in and presses his lips to the base of your throat. You put your hands on the back of his neck, holding yourself against him. “An empty room with a lock,” He adds before he kisses your neck once again. You cock your head back, giving him more room to explore. “And fuck your pretty pussy absolutely senseless, yeah?” He says with a gruff tone, finishing his run on sentence staring directly into your eyes. 

Your mouth has gone dry, and while it may be cotton mouth from the weed, you know that it’s really from the effects he has on you. “I think we could make that work.” You whisper back, slipping off Harry’s lap and grabbing his hand as he stands. 

You don’t even bother saying anything to the other guys at the table as Harry walks past you and leads you back inside. The pounding from the speakers turns into ear blisteringly loud music as you enter back into the room. 

Harry moves his hand to your waist, encapsulating you as he leads you to the stairs on the far wall. You feel your heart rate pick up and your breathing speed as you get closer to the array of bedroom doors. 

Your boyfriend’s grip on your waist stays sturdy as he walks to the closest door, spinning you and pining you against it, not even making it through the closed door. Luckily the hallway is empty and mostly quiet, apart from the music, so you aren’t worried about being caught. His breath cascades down your face and his added height on you has you looking up at him through your lashes. 

While you still have the confidence, you push against his chest and flip yourselves around, pining him against the door this time. He smirks, finding your small bravery cute. “Don’t get used to that, doll.” He says lowly into your ear. 

You move your hand to the door knob and twist it open, keeping your eyes on Harry’s, but as the door swings open you hear a high pitched giggle and a man’s voice shouting ‘occupied!’ but it’s too late, cause you’ve already seen the fit couple doogy-styling it up on the bare mattress. 

Harry snaps his head around to look into the room as you stand with wide eyes and a shocked expression, frozen in embarrassment. Once Harry has the slightest glance at what you’re staring at, he whips his head right back around and places his palm over your eyes. You quickly do the same, trying to cover his eyes while not seeing anything and as you get your hand in position, Harry’s body is pushing you forward and slamming the door shut behind him. 

You stand in silence, still covering each other’s eyes as you start to giggle. And the giggle turns into you both full on heaving up laughs while blinding each other outside the door. 

If anyone walked by right now, surely they’d think you two were insane, but neither of you can control your chuckles as you take in what just happened.

“Y/N,” Harry says as your laughs start to subside. “I’m going to remove my hand now, and I want to never speak about what we just saw.” 

You laugh and nod behind his palm. “Agreed.” You say and at that, you both lower your hands to see each other again, which only makes your own giggles release again. 

“I believe we were in the middle of something before our intrusion.” He says as he snakes one of his hands to your waist and you place on of his hands on his chest, stepping slightly closer.

“Now were we?” You play dumb with a coy smile. “You might have to refresh my memory.” You tease and he starts backwards walking to another closed door. 

This time he knocks and you wait in silence for any sign of human life on the other side, your ears pressed very close to the door. After a second more of silence, Harry slowly creaks open the door, peaking in and once confirming that you’re alone, yanking your arm in the door and shutting it behind you, being very sure to lock it. 

Harry’s lips crash against yours and his hands come up to your sides, pulling off the fabric of your top, taking your bra with it, and smoothly yanking his off by the back collar. You fiddle with his pants zipper as he moves his mouth to your neck and starts biting at your collar bone Your breathing increases as you slip your hand into his unbuttoned waist band, rubbing your hand over his cock and squeezing gently. He groans into your mouth before grabbing you by your hips and quite literally throwing you onto the bed like a rag doll. 

He discards his pants as he walks over to you, hovering naked over your clothed center. He kissed between your breasts, and then attacks each nipple while undoing the button on your jeans, a small whine coming from your throat as your hand tangles in his head of hair. He releases your pebbled nipple and kisses your stomach once before ripping your jeans and underwear off your legs and onto the floor.

He waists no time grabbing the backs of your thighs and pressing them against your body, devouring your pussy with no warning. You moan harshly into the air, fisting his curls as he stares up at you through his dark eye lashes. “Harry!” You squeak into the air as he nibbles on your clit before adding a finger to the mix, completely mutilating you within seconds. 

“Harry, fuck.” You moan into the air, squeezing your eyes shut as you already feel a fast approaching orgasm surfacing. You weren’t used to this quick of a pace, but your body adjusts fairly quickly. “Har- Harry if you k-keep that up I’m gonna-”

He abruptly stops his mouth and pulls back from your center, his chin shiny with your arousal. “Don’t cum til I say so, pet. I mean it.” He says with deep conviction in his voice despite the cute name, 

Harry then grabs your hips and rolls you over so that your ass is to him. He yanks on your hips and props them up so that his hips are lined up with yours. Without warning, he’s pushing into you from behind, sinking all the way in, erupting a moan from both of your chests. “Shit, Y/N”

He remains still for a moment, letting you adjust before he’s slowly pulling out and pushing right back in and bottoming out inside you. He gradually picks up the pace until he’s rocking into you with aggression. His hand slides up your back and latches into your hair, pulling your body back to be flush with his chest. 

“Who’s pussy is this?” He growls in your ear as his hips pivot up into you, the new angle reaching a whole new spot inside you. 

“Yours.” You pant out, breathless from the mind-blowing pace he’s managing to keep up. “My pussy’s yours, Harry.” 

“Good.” He rasps as he drops you back down onto the bed and pulling out. 

As you lay still for a second trying to catch your breath, Harry comes and lays right next to you. You twist your brows in confusion, but your questions are answered when he slips his hand under your stomach on top of the mattress and rolls you onto his chest. 

He wraps one arm around your shoulders, keeping the top half of your body locked against his, and he uses the other hand to guide his cock back into you. He props his feet up on the bed for leverage and starts thrusting up into your hips, the sound of your skin slapping together filling the room. Your thighs are hooked onto the outside of his, making you so wide and open for him. 

“Oh, God. Oh my God, Harry.” You whine, resting your head back in the crook of his neck as he wraps one of his arms around your stomach. 

Since the side of your head is pressed so close to his face, his moans and grunts filter straight into your ear, sending tingles down your spine. 

“Being such a good girl fo’ me.” Harry says breathlessly into your ear. “Takin’ my cock so well.” His accent getting thicker as he speaks lowly.

“Feels so good, H.” You whine, turning your face into his neck and sucking on a spot above his throat. “So fucking good.”

He slides his hand up from your stomach to your mouth, sticking two fingers on your tongue and you involuntarily suck on them, lathering them in saliva. 

“Does my little slut wanna cum now?” He asks, slipping his hand from your shoulders to your throat and squeezing at the sides. You nod incessantly in response with his fingers still tangled in his mouth. “Beg.” He taunts you as he drags his coated fingers down your stomach, to your heat, and starts rubbing fast circles on your clit. 

You moan loudly in response. “Please, please Harry. Please let me cum baby.” You beg, itching for your release. You’re practically whining as you beg, your toes curling and thighs startling to tremble. 

“Go on, cum for me darling.” He allows as he continues his assault on your clit, his thrusts getting sharper as he nears his end too.

You finally allow yourself to reach the peak you’d been chasing, your orgasm ripping through your insides. You thighs shake and you grab the sheets with one hand and death grip Harry’s curls behind you with the other hand. Your eyes feel like they’re rolling into the back of your head and the moans of Harry coming with you only spur on the moment. Your back arches as much as possible while still in his hold, and your mouth gapes open. 

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck, Y/N.” Harry’s grip on your throat absentmindedly tightens and he’s tilting his forehead into the side of your head as his heavy breaths warm your cheek. “Holy shit.”

Harry continues to play with your sensitive nerves as he slows his hip movements to a stop and you both relax your muscles, staggeringly attempting to catch your breath. 

He slowly pulls out from beneath you and you flinch from sensitivity. He scoots over slightly so that he can get out from under you. He’s still panting as he grabs his boxers from the floor, raising them to your heat and wiping at it softly in attempt to clean you up. 

You smile at him, your boyfriend always putting you first, even if it means he has cum stained boxers. 

Once the majority of the mess is cleaned up he plops right back down on the bed next to you, both of you turning to face the other with a small smile. 

“You’re my everything.” He tells you and leans forward, connecting his lips with yours as you both smile at each other. 

a/n; yuh hoped you like it. didn’t know how to end it and i didn’t want it to be some ‘i love you’ bullshit so heres a cringier off brand line to end it. lmk what you think, love you all!

[m-aster-of-spinjitzu]

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Akita and Zane talk after the battle in 'Awakenings'. The conversation... doesn't go as either of them expect.

Prompt: memories, from @ninjago-bingo​‘s warm board:D

Trigger warnings: implied self harm (one or two characters dig their fingernails into their hands), discussion and introspection about most of the crimes the 'Emperor' committed, a lot of talk and introspection about murder.

Word count: 4682 (I've literally been writing this for like a month lol, kinda disappointed it ended up fairly short:/)

"We have to talk."

The girl with red markings on her face - Akita, he heard Lloyd call her - unsheathes her short dagger, eyes narrowed to slits.

He glances around the throne room, hands pressed to his head. The memories were still trickling through; strange islands and a forest of snow, a dungeon and... a noodle factory?

"Alright," he says quietly. She bears the same red marks of the bear he can remember Vex convincing him was a criminal, many winters ago. That could only mean-

It wasn't you, he reminds himself. It was the scroll, and the actions of a power hungry traitor.

You gave the order, his now infallible memory supplies, and, honestly, he has no rebuttal for that.

"Alright," he echoes meekly, trying to muster some emotion into his voice. "I know-"

"No," she cuts him off roughly, her eyes scanning the room. It is just the two of them now - the samurai had fled once they had recovered from the strange trance he had put them in. Vex had been locked in the dungeon by Lloyd, who was helping any of the samurai who could not quite remember their old lives.

He had ruled for sixty years. Some of their families might dead, some by their own hands.

They know this. He knows this.

Irrationally, he wishes there was some way to fix this. A spell, or a way to turn back the clock; some way to yell at a younger Zane to just scout the cave-

There is no way backward; only forward, out of this winter - and, possibly, into another one.

He stares at the girl in front of him, taking in her tattered clothing, the ease with which she holds her weapon. She's not afraid to fight.

"I don't owe you an explanation, Emperor," Akita says definitely, forcing out the words. "But you will give me one, or you shall never see the light of day again. My brother-"

His heart lurches, eyes widening. Brother.

"Knows that the dungeon has many empty cells," she finishes sharply, barely contained anger flashing in her eyes.

He keeps the facts brief, concise. Once this is all over, he can dwell on them - agonize over what he should have done; use it to be better next time. Atone for his mistakes, even if he can never truly make up for them.

"A snake capable of sorcery used a magic scepter to blast me and a vehicle to this realm. I was sent here sixty years into the past, which is why it took my friends so long to find me. I was also holding a similar magic scepter - one which amplifies the holder's power, but if held for too long, it corrupts one's mind."

"I know what happens next."

How-

"I watched your message to your friends," she replies curtly, by way of explanation. "I did not know that you and the Emperor were one and the same. Continue."

"Vex interrupted a process I was using to try and fix a- vehicle, which caused me to lose my memories. He told me that I was ill. He said that he was a great friend of mine, and that this realm belonged to me. He convinced me that Formlings were warmongers, and that the rightful king had overthrown me. Just before he almost killed Lloyd, he said something that caused my memories to return."

She frowns. "I do not understand. How does one lose their memories so easily?"

Akita stares at his metal skin, her eyes widening as if noticing it for the first time.

"I am not quite like you-"

"I know," she interjects, eyes brimming with anger. "I am not a murderer."

"I was... created," he replies, quietly. "Out of extra materials. I can act like others, but I do not always understand emotions in the same way."

Akita frowns again, raising her dagger. Her voice grows a dangerous edge; sharp and cold. "You never realized that your actions were wrong?"

They're entering dangerous territory. Some part of him wants to derail the conversation; stick to the facts and leave his emotions out of this.

But he owes her an explanation - he owes everyone an explanation. He owes them so much more, if only he could give it to them; erase the past and leave their quiet realm in peace.

"Before I came here, I would never have done such things - if I had my memories, I would never have done such things. Vex convinced me that they were the only way I could defend my throne. I did not know that they were wrong. The moment I realized what I had done, I tried to help your side. The right side," he finishes, ignoring the temptation to stare down at the floor instead of into her blazing eyes.

An indecipherable expression crosses her face. "You never talked to another? One of your... army, perhaps?" "Vex gave all the orders. He just asked me for approval. I never left this room." "And you approved them," she muttered, but it seemed to serve more as a reminder to herself than it did to him.

"What was your life like, before you entered our world?" Akita asks suddenly, suspicion still coating her voice. He blinks, the question unexpected.

"My friends and I can control and create different elements," he began, hesitantly. Carefully. "We were taught to fight. We protect our city from those-" "You were built to protect those who cannot protect themselves."

"Those who cannot protect themselves," Zane finishes, guilt making his vision hazy.

He quickly blinks away the tears, all too aware of her persistent gaze.

"Two more questions," she says quickly, glancing behind her. "This room makes me uncomfortable. And so do you." The accusation is clear, but her eyes are not quite as cold as they had been earlier.

"What do you feel now?" Akita asks roughly, taking a step back. "You mentioned earlier that you do not feel emotions the same way that we do. Explain."

I could lie, he thinks, fleetingly. What if my feelings convince her that I am the Emperor even more than I am Zane? A voice at the back of his mind points out that he is - was - the Emperor.

He knows this.

He knows that he will have to acknowledge it once they are back home.

He knows that he cannot dwell on it now, or the winter will go on - inside his mind instead of outside it.

"I feel... guilt," he begins. "For the terrible crimes I have committed. Horror, at my own actions. Anger, towards that traitor. Relief - that I am no longer under his influence." An eyebrow touches her forehead, ever so slightly.

"How guilty?" It is almost a challenge, her voice rising in pitch threateningly.

"I will spend the rest of my life working to atone for my mistakes," Zane answers sincerely, resisting the irrational urge to squeeze his eyes shut. "However, I know that nothing I can do will ever undo them. But I can help others from people who- who... seek to manipulate them," he finishes quietly, a remorseful sigh punctuating the confession.

Akita says nothing; lips pressed in a hard line. Her blank, steadfast gaze meets his. The dagger clatters to the ground.

He draws in a breath sharply.

Picking it up, she squares her shoulders defiantly. "My people will know that... that there were two prisoners within these walls," she sighs, the weariness in her voice all too evident.

Yet he does not miss her glare; a barely contained anger that lurks just beneath the surface.

Akita straightens her spine, frowning menacingly as her hand tightens on the dagger.

He resists the irrational urge to take a step back.

"My brother and I will never forgive you," she snarls.

You do not have to, he would like to say. But he suspects that she already knows this.

"Come near either of us again, and I will make you long for death."

She shifts to her wolf form, baring her teeth - but when she stalks closer, he does not back away.

Suddenly, he is all-too-aware of the fact that the throne room is currently empty - bar the two of them.

He does not move.

It is not as if she could harm him - titanium is not easily damaged (yet, some part of him wonders if that is a blessing or curse), but they have faced enough villains for him to know how it works.

The villains die at the end; rightfully so.

Why should this be any different?

"You will pay for your crimes," Akita growls, shifting between her forms as if it is second nature. It probably is. "Emperor."

Her dagger clatters to the ground once again.

He does not move.

Why should this be any different?

---

"What's taking her so long?"

"Who?" The Samurai asks, the confusion on his face only amplifying.

"No- nothing," he mumbles, wincing. The adrenaline is wearing off - and with it, the fleeting distraction from the pain coursing through his chest.

Broken ribs? Probably. But he's got bigger problems to worry about - his minor injuries don't really matter when there's a warrior (because after all that she's been through, he thinks that she deserves the title - even if it's one she would never have wanted) seeking vengeance, someone who could tear apart this castle, brick by brick if she wanted to, alone with his brother.

His brother - who'd taken hers; encased her village in a tomb of ice, leaving behind no one but a teenager consumed with blinding anger - rightfully so, he admits, a bit wearily.

What happened to you, Zane?

Are you even... there? The person who used to stay awake with me when all I saw was the building crumbling before my eyes, night after night? The one who swore to protect those who couldn't protect themselves?

Are you still there?

"Can I, er, go inside?" he asks no one, trying not to breathe too hard. The Ice Samurai he'd been trying to help had vanished, most probably to try and get answers from someone else.

He owes it to these people to help them - if he'd just been faster, stronger, better, Aspheera could never have-

Not now, Lloyd!

He should probably open the doors - try and diffuse whatever fight they'd gotten into. Akita reminds him of Kai; both of them fiercely protective of those whom they care about, yet sometimes clouded by rage so thick they can barely see out of it.

But he's hesitating - there's always the possibility that her anger; prison of its own, might extend to him.

Not that he even has the right to condemn her for it, though.

Unwillingly, a fleeting thought presses itself to the forefront of his mind; beautiful white hair, a soft voice coated in honey-

Broken ribs, he reminds himself stubbornly, grimacing at the flare of pain as he draws in a breath sharply. She's gone, she's gone, and it's-

He bites his lip until the tang of iron fills his mouth, eyes fixed determinedly on the floor.

Not now, Lloyd!

Slowly, carefully, he pushes the door open. It creaks softly - but he doesn't think anyone hears it.

Oh, no.

---

"Akita?" a voice questions, hesitantly. He's half-leaning against the door, blonde hair almost completely hiding wary eyes all but squeezed shut in pain.

She stiffens, ignoring the part of her that learns to hunt, murder, the- the monster-

Blinking, quickly, she allows her mind to embrace the sharp, cold air on her fur, and her harsh, ragged breathing - until she can almost feel the shift in her heart, trading instinct for a different type of clarity, white fur for skin and hair.

Grabbing her dagger, she halfheartedly swipes it at the boy who makes her cheeks redder than they usually are, the boy who travelled across the ice seeking a murderer-

Well. He is in no condition to help anyone - they both know this.

But he does not have the right to interfere with this conversation - her feelings do not matter when his friend is-

"Leave us," she snarls, fingers digging into the hilt of her dagger. "What makes you think you have the right?"

Her voice grows colder, but she can't quite keep the tremor out of it.

"You did not find your village half-dead, or spend months mourning your brother," Akita snaps, frustration seeping into the words. Why does he always have to make everything so complicated?

"I know," he replies, hesitantly, eyes flitting between the room and the door. "But... this isn't the right thing to do, Akita."

"Do you think it was right for your friend to seize power from our rightful ruler? Do you think he was right when he imprisoned an innocent child for so many years?"

She doesn't bother to keep the venom out of her voice, ignoring the fact that the light brown of her skin has almost faded to white where she grips her weapon.

Taking a step closer, she bites her lip.

If he will make this his fight, so will she.

"The girl I told you about," Lloyd interjects. "H- Harumi." He forces out the name, as if the very mention of it ails him.

She raises her eyebrows. "What are you going to do? Distract me with stories about your girlfriend while he," Akita glares at the Emperor with a sigh, "escapes?"

"No," he replies softly. Brushing the hair out of his eyes, she doesn't miss his poorly concealed wince.

This is the friend he seeks?

There's a fragile silence, one of which she refuses to shatter. Nothing he can say will erase the horrific actions of this- this power-hungry ruler who has abused the gift he has been given; persecuted their lands, and forced innocents into lives ruled by fear and hatred.

"I- er-" Lloyd starts, visibly uncomfortable with saying... whatever it is he is trying to say.

She does not interrupt, but does not take her eyes off the Emperor, either. He has not moved or even contributed to their exchange yet.

Good, she thinks fervently. She does not need to force herself to try and feel sympathy for a man she has hated for so many long winters, one who has taken a piece of her heart and locked it away in a tiny prison cell.

"Did I ever tell you that- that... I watched her die?" he asks, aiming for a casual tone.

The hurt subconsciously laced into it makes something in her heart twist, as if it had been pierced by a shard of glass.

Outwardly, she does nothing more than raise an eyebrow.

For all the days they have spent trekking across the ice together, it suddenly dawns on her how little she actually knows about him.

"No," she replies carefully, dragging out the word. "Why?" "She-"

Akita can almost see his internal struggle - anger and fear and indecision and something she can't quite place her finger on meshing into another thing entirely.

"She- tried to murder," Lloyd flinches at the word, nails digging into his palms, "my friends. And I was forced to watch, helpless," he whispers, so softly that she has to strain to hear it.

"But when she- she died in a crumbling building, I- was... the one who caused it to fall."

"Your point?" she snaps; voice as sharp as her blade. He is the only thing standing between her and the Emperor; between the growing hatred she had allowed to fester for all this time, because one day she would finally make him pay-

Her friend visibly winces.

Too late does she realize her mistake, a fact that leaves her a bit sick to the stomach.

That's nothing compared to the bout of nausea that accompanies another realization, juts a second later.

How could I let my anger hurt another - one who did not deserve to receive it? Am I truly any better than the one whom I have condemned?

Well. The logical side of her mind points out that it is her choice to forgive, for such unforgivable acts; that the anger that had doused everything in its hue, every day, was to be expected-

"I apologize... for my conduct," she says quickly, forcing herself to meet his eyes. "You have never hurt me. I did not mean to hurt you." "It's okay- this- this isn't my fight anyway," Lloyd replies quickly, fingers wrapped around the door handle - but she doesn't even think he's aware of the fact. "I just- I just wanted to share something with you, something I wish someone would've shared with me, because-" He's rambling, words practically coated in a jumble of shaky nerves. "What is it?" Akita asks softly, losing a little of the stiffness in her tone.

"Murder- it isn't right," he repeats, hands pressed to his forehead. "But... it'll hurt you more than it will anyone else. I can't go a week without seeing her fall in my dreams, over and over again. I should've been glad, I guess... she'd hurt my friends and I so many times. But- but I'm the one with the nightmares, and all this- guilt. And I care- I care you, Akita. I know that I'll never understand how you've been hurt by- by the Emperor... just, think about how it'll affect you." Akita's eyes widen incredulously, but he's not done. "Just- don't let someone else make you hurt yourself." His voice is about a pitch higher than normal, but neither of them really register it. "Sometimes, the best kind of revenge is refusing..." Lloyd trails off, his eyes squeezed shut (a second later, he opens them again, blinking profusely), "to let anyone... make you hurt them."

Irrationally, she wants to break something.

That advice offers... an entirely new perspective. One that she had never thought of.

One that is- is unwanted, she insists fervently.

And now his fingers are pressing into his hands again, so tightly that she almost wants to yell - stop it, idiot, you're hurting yourself! - at him. "Because... it might haunt you lot more. And if they- they- really want to hurt you?" Both of them ignore the erratic, painful looking way his breathing starts to hitch just then.

"Don't give them... the satisfaction of it - by- your own hands."

Her mouth drops open.

No words come out.

What?

Out of the corner of her eye, she watches Lloyd slowly - a bit too carefully - push the door shut behind him. It creaks softly, but neither of the two left standing in the room really hear it.

She squeezes her eyes shut, far too many emotions almost crashing through her mind.

"You seek to rescue your friend. I seek revenge."

Blinking the world back into focus, her mind whirls and whirls; the storm unrelenting.

"I seek revenge."

What exactly did that mean to her?

She...

She did not quite know the answer now.

---

Akita does not speak for some time, her thoughtful expression plainly clashing with one of anger.

He does not speak, either, although it is for a different reason.

Lloyd's words have forced him to face the reality he has been avoiding ever since he smashed his scepter on the ground - ever since the decade-long winter had ended.

"And if they really want to hurt you? Don't give them the satisfaction of it - by your own hands."

"If they really want to hurt you."

There is only one whom Lloyd could have been referring to.

"You were built to protect those who cannot protect themselves."

Somewhere within his mind, he is aware of the fact that the second his memories returned, the staff lay in pieces on the floor; all of that corrupted ice shattering into nothing.

He is also aware of the fact that sixty years of tyranny will leave behind much more than an altered climate.

If they even get back to Ninjago, what will have become of his city? It took his friends decades to find him - what could have happened during all that time?

Friends. Does he even have a right to call them that?

He is not quite sure - or even sure if all of them will be as forgiving as Lloyd.

The Green Ninja had always strived to find the best in people - to believe that anyone could make up for their mistakes, that they would want to. It had been to his friend's detriment, once - yet Lloyd had never quite given up on the world, in the same way that many of them had. Maybe it was some sort of childish naivety - or maybe it was just in his nature to hope, even after all they had been through, that everyone had some good inside them.

Yet, he had never met anyone who shared his friend's mindset - or at least to that extent.

Kai knows what it is like to have a sibling kidnapped, taken from them for no rhyme or reason - other than the fact that a cruel ruler who seeks power and exploits those around them for it will stop at nothing to get what they want.

Cole knows what it is like to die (well, almost, his logic points out) - to be imprisoned within yourself; a husk of a person, unable to live your life to the fullest.

His mind flashes to the thousands of innocent villagers he had frozen in icy prisons, practically caskets-

Irrationally, his hands begin to shake.

He chooses not to focus on that.

Nya used to hunt down those who hurt others, he recalls - and then squeezes his eyes shut.

Is she not quite similar to Akita in that regard?

The realization leaves him more gutted than he thought was possible. Had he really become the very person his friends worked so hard to stop?

He clenches his fists, the titanium covering his fingers grating together.

At least I am no longer holding the scroll, he thinks, fervently. Before long, the memory of a clear, quiet night pulls itself to the forefront of his mind.

The echo of a whispered confession; a brief explanation mixed with tears and shaking hands. A voice usually so bright, silenced to the shaky murmur of "I watched her die, Zane, and it was all my fault, it's all my fault-"

It was then when he had learned of- of an alternate timeline, his processor had inputted seamlessly. Another reality, wiped from their minds and the press of time. One that only existed in the memories of two of his best friends.

One that resulted in poorly concealed winces, seemingly arbitrary flinches, Nya throwing out any dresses she owned and Jay practically shaking with fear when he was asked to do certain chores. One that resulted in scars that ran far deeper than those of venom or sword. His memories had been useless then, too, his mind points out. How could he have let two of his best friends suffer for weeks on end, when he was able to upgrade or encrypt his memory drive at any time? When he was a n- robot, and should be able to recover memories that had been deleted or erased? The others could never be afforded that opportunity - yet, he had let the team down when it mattered most. If he could not be there for others, try to help them protect them from a force unable to ever be completely defeated, would he ever even halfway fulfill his purpose? He had pondered all of those questions - had ignored the pang in his heart when many pieces of the figurative puzzle clicked into place, for many weeks afterward. He had almost immediately vowed to be better - to ensure that his purpose did not go unfulfilled.

His purpose, he thought bitterly, as he squeezed his eyes shut. What had become of it now?

Another question to ponder, he supposed. And the realization that Jay - one of his brothers, one who was always equipped with a weapon and a joke too - would forever know what it was like to be kidnapped, held hostage, simply because a power-hungry figure cared less for another than anyone ever should.

Akita's brother had been scarcely less than a child - after his imprisonment. How could he have strayed so far from his original goals - how could he have strayed so far from what he had supposedly fervently stood for?

---

Lloyd's words still ring in her ears, his weary tone not quite matching their crazy implications.

She rubs her temples, frustrated. This was definitely not what she had come here for! She had come for vengeance - vengeance for the terrible crimes the Ice Emperor had committed, against her village, her brother, even her-

But what was the point of revenge if she was the one left scarred? a small voice in the back of her mind points out, doing nothing but adding to her indecision.

I cannot do this, she insists fervently, thinking of her brother's worn face - and the years he had spent imprisoned; a lone figure silently mourning a sister he did not know still trekked the ice.

Just as she had been mourning him, she thinks sadly. The pang in her heart may have lessened since she had realized that he was still alive, but it was still horrifying to think that he had lost decades of his life - she had lost decades of hers, too, in a different way, she muses - saddened, alone, imprisoned.

But is this what he would have wanted? For her?

He had always been the calmer, logic-based one. She was always running into fights, the one fueled by emotion and anger.

Well. She spares a moment for the future.

The Emperor would leave their world - possibly, to haunt another. She would remain here - with her brother and her village, the woods and the towering peaks of the mountains.

I only have this one chance, she reminds herself firmly. She fixes her eyes on the strange blue ones of the Emperor, and sees a future ruled by that one decision.

Her gaze flits towards the doorway, and she sees a future there, too.

She sighs, dropping her eyes to the ground.

But Katuru would want me to- to-

Be happy, she realizes, jarringly.

Taking a deep breath, she bites her lip.

"Will taking your life make me happy? Will it make up for the years of pain we have endured at your hands?"

Her voice rings out, hesitant yet determined.

"I wish it were so," she confesses wearily, ignoring the ache in her hands. She's been gripping the hilt of her dagger for so long, the blade's almost pierced her skin. "Alas, it is not."

The Emperor meets her gaze, but not completely - out of guilt? Fear? Anger?

She does not have the time to ponder meaningless questions.

"I despise you with every fiber of my being, you coward," Akita snarls, some of the anger she has become so accustomed to bleeding its way into her words. "But I will not tarnish my hands on someone as worthless as you, when you presently pose no threat to me."

The words spill from her mouth, but she almost wants to stuff them back inside at that very second.

This isn't why I came here! This isn't what I was supposed to do-

Another voice cuts through the one in her head, a weary confession from someone she knew nothing and everything about.

"Don't give them the satisfaction of it - by your own hands.

The next words she utter fill the room - steady, unwavering.

"Leave our world, and never return. Never. You have treated my people as if you are a monster, yet you say that you are sorry. As if you could ever care - after everything you have done to us!"

Akita sheathes her dagger, indecision still weighing heavily on her mind.

"I hope that you are as haunted by your time here as we all are," she spits, walking towards the door. She does not look behind her, but packs as much bitterness as she can into the last word she utters before the door closes behind her.

"Emperor."

---

A/N - I know this wasn't great, but honestly, it was really interesting to write and challenged me to think about certain things quite a bit. If you did read it, thank you so much!:D

[nestasgalpal]

Epilogue

Fixing ACOSF part 12

Masterlist | A03

Summary: There is only one more thing Nesta needs to come to terms with before her new life can begin.

A/N: I hope reading this helped you cope with the book as much as writing it helped me. The story wasn't what I expected (we were led to think it would take place in the Illyrian Mountains to star with lol), but with some editing it could have been a lot more enjoyable. In my mind this is canon, and I think it sticks to what happened in the book enough that I can keep pretending it is as I read the next books that are coming out. Thank you to all of you who read it <3

Tagging:  @gwynriel​ @gwynberdara​ @zoyaslai​ @clolikescloquetas​ @amelievrstr​ @saltydreamcollector​ @lordlorcan​ @esrahiba​ @queenestarcheron​  @jemstan300 @nessiantrashh @azrielsgirl  @mireillemystique @pataytayo​ @968sunflower968 @caram267 @jainadurron @darkshadowqueensrule @finae-bookshelf @niytavia @brainlessfruit @dontgetsalmonella @messyhairday-me @sunsummoner  @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @wannawriteyouabook @psychoticminx @misswonderflower @drielecarla @silvernesta @k0ombayamylord @quinlars @arinbelle  @itsforeverinnocent-blog @moodymelanist @sv0430 @my-fan-side @loveamarij

A home.

The House of Wind, Velaris, this court… they finally felt like her home. The thought kindled a kernel of light in her chest that had not extinguished, even in the months after the Rite.

That kernel was still flickering as Nesta faced that day’s task. The task that was so long overdue.

Feyre left the ornate black carriage at the base of the grassy hill, carrying Nyx as the three of them scaled its soft slope. The city spread before them, glowing in the summer sunshine, but Nesta’s eyes remained on the lone stone atop the hill.

Her heart thundered, and she kept a step back as Feyre knelt before the grave marker, showing Nyx to the stone. “Your grandson, Father,” she whispered, voice thick. And then Feyre bowed her head, speaking too low for Nesta or Elain, standing at Nesta’s side, to hear.

After a few minutes, Feyre rose, letting her tears run, as holding the babe kept her hands occupied. Elain went forward, whispered a few things to their father’s grave, and then both sisters looked to Nesta, smiling tentatively. Feyre had asked this morning if Nesta wanted to come to show their father the baby.

And there had been no answer in Nesta’s heart except one.

So she nodded to her sisters to go on ahead, and they obeyed, easing back down the grassy hill as Nesta lingered by the gravestone. She searched for the words, for any explanation or apology, but nothing came.

The sun was a warm hand on her shoulder, like the one that had prevented the last of her power from vanishing, as if telling her that the apology, the begging for forgiveness … it was not needed. Her father had died for her, with love in his heart. Thus loving his memory —honoring it, would be enough. To love him back without any shadow of resentment. To choose to let go the anger that consumed her for years.

Nesta's gray eyes scanned the stone that marked where his father rested under the earth. No apology would make sense. No forgiveness was needed from any side now.

So instead, Nesta made an oath.

"From this moment and on, Father, I swear I'll be the daughter I could have been, had our lives been any different. I'll be the older sister to Feyre and Elain that I always wanted to be, and never dared. I will be the female that I was meant to become from the moment I emerged from the Cauldron —when my mortal body died. For the rest of my life, I will be brave."

Nesta had to take a long breath to continue. Her mouth dried out as her eyes became watery.

"If it wasn't so sad that you are gone, it would almost be funny, don't you think? Isn't it ironic, how for so long I thought you would only leave mistakes behind you when you died and became dust, yet nothing has made me stronger than the lessons I learned from your absence? I think it is. I think it's funny now to think how I was every single thing I despised about you, and only after realizing it, now that you are gone, I could start to love myself. To see the flaws clearly and fix them one by one."

Nesta let one of her hands rest on the stone, warm because of the sun hitting it from above.

"It was hard to make peace with your absence, Father. I didn't know what to do with all those feelings. I didn't know how to forgive you and love you with you being gone. But I forgive you, and I love you. And I want you to know that you left a good legacy that I will gladly take and learn from. I will learn from your mistakes and make the best out of them."

A swift shadow passed overhead, followed by a whisper of wings, and Nesta didn’t need to look to know who sailed high above, making sure all was safe. That she was safe.

Busybody. But she blew Cassian a soft kiss, too. Her mate. Her love. Her friend. The light within her chest brightened to a radiant sun.

"I will love my kids so loudly that there won't be room in their hearts to ever doubt my devotion to them. I will love my mate. And I will love myself. I will love myself so ardently that there won't be room in my heart to ever forget that being alive and happy is what I deserve. Because I've fought for it too hard to give in. For myself, and for you —for all of us who have been cowards at some point but stood up when we were truly needed, I will fight every day of the rest of my life."

Some days might indeed be difficult, but she’d do it. Fight for it. For happiness.

Her father had died for her, with love in his heart, and Nesta held love in her own as she pulled the small carved rose from her pocket and set it upon the gravestone. A permanent marker of the beauty and good he’d tried to bring into the world.

Nesta brought her fingers to her lips, pressed a kiss to them, then laid her hand upon the gravestone. “Thank you,” she said, blinking back the stinging in her eyes. “Thank you.”

She found Feyre and Elain waiting halfway down the hill, Nyx now dozing peacefully in Elain’s arms. Her sisters beamed, beckoning her to join. And Nesta smiled back, her steps light as she hurried down the hill to meet them.

[mystic-fvlls]

For the quiet days in the Quarter

Summary: There was no such thing as a quiet day in the French Quarter, actually, but if there ever was an exception, you and Kol made sure to keep the rest of the family on their toes.

Warnings: none

Prompt: “This plan of yours is going to get us killed. Of course I’m in.”

Pairing: Kol Mikaelson x platonic!Reader 

Word count: 1000-ish

A/N: This is my submission for @hellotvshowtrash #march2021promoptchallenge. This started off as an imagine but it was too messy, so I made it into a headcanon type thing, but I’ve never done it before, so it’s sort of trashy but I had fun, so it's okay, lol! <3 I’m also very nervous about posting it akjakjflad but I wanted to challenge myself to do it so yay :’) 

It was a well known fact that quiet days in the supernatural community weren't a common occurrence.

Especially in the French Quarter of New Orleans, where trouble lurked around every corner.

And amongst trouble seeking Original vampires.

Who also happened to be your adoptive family.

It wasn’t a secret that the Mikaelsons were masters at stirring and attracting all kinds of trouble, never having a moment of peace in their lives.

You had been proven of that repeatedly over the years.

And gotten in danger a couple of times, because of it.

But there was also a flip side.

They were incredibly loyal to their loved ones and you had somehow edned up as one.

They all adored you like family and welcomed you into their home when you reunited in New Orleans.

Growing closer with them also meant that they had allowed you, albeit rarely, to see their lighter sides.

The little moments when they shared a laugh over something mundane.

But there was one Mikaelson in particular who's sense of mischief you'd instantly clicked with.

"Thinking of me, darling?" Kol stood in the doorway.

You smirked at the Original fondly, "Always, baby."

The flirty comments and playful glances were the brand of your friendship, but it was all platonic since day one.

as you were very much gay

Because like any sane person you had no interest to get involved with an emotionally unstable Original vampire.

But you had to admit that the two of you were a great team.

Whenever there was a suspiciously quiet day in the French Quarter, you took the task to change that to heart.

But in a whole different way than the usual turmoil that echoed throughout the Abattoir.

"I have an idea." Kol walked further into the room.

Usually that's how it started. A silly joke, a random thought, and before you knew it you were being chased out of the compound by one of the other siblings.

It was always in an attempt to entertain yourselves while everyone else was busy destroying saving the city.

By the way his smirk grew wider, you knew it was a good bad one this time.

But you knew how much you could get away with.

Especially after a particular incident involving a bucket of paint in Klaus' studio, resulting in a daggered Kol.

But as he told you about this idea of his, carefully explaining what he had in mind,you weren't sure either of you were going to survive it.

But he needed a partner in crime

"No." You mumbled, shaking your head.

"Oh, come on, Y/N, I'm bored! Aren't you?" He whined sluggishly in a british accent, the previously sly glance he held over you turning into a pleading expression. The puppy dog eyes he tried to give you did little to hide the glimmer of mischief underneath.

He was dying to do this and you couldn’t blame him.

And the crime in question this time... was a prank.

A prank!

A great one, at that.

BUT

One he wanted to pull off on the worst possible person to pull a prank on. A man that had a stick up his ass zero tolerance for your childish schemes.

Who would most definitely not find Kol’s idea even remotly amusing.

Who would hunt you down and kill you, which considering the fact that you shared a living quarters, wouldn't be too difficult for him.

"So, what do you say, darling? Wanna go shopping?” Kol's crooked grin spread across his face.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips at the thought, "This plan of yours is going to get us killed.”

How could you pass the opportunity to see the look on his face, though, once the prank was complete.

Your eyes trailed over the room before a smirk graced your lips, “Of course I’m in."

You both set out to complete your respectative tasks for the plan to work.

Just like the nature of the recepient, the success of the prank laid in its meticulous execution.

Luckily, the compoud was big enough, so that you could distract the Original you needed to, while your partner in crime finished the final step of the plan.

You coaxed the man in the suit in the kitchen, offering him a freshly brewed cup of coffee.

Mustering your best acitng skills, you faked a clumsy coffee spill which was very uncharacteristic for a vampire such as yourself but oh well and before you knew it, he was headed up the stairs to his room.

Unbeknownst to him, Kol was already hiding there and you followed suit.

“What the-?”

His perplexed mutter brought you and Kol together, coming into view further inside the room.

You had to put a hand over your mouth as you stood next to Kol, both of you focused on the Original who had his back to you, facing his wardrobe.

“What in the name of God have you two done?” He turned back around, holidng up two hangers.

Before you stood Elijah Mikaelson, in his thousand dollar suit, with a floral hawaiian short sleeved shirt in each hand.

The colorful patterns and light fabric a stark contrast to the dark shadow looming over his face, and the thretaning glare settled deeply on his face.

You had really outdone yourselves this time.

You hadn't left a single item of his clothes.

It was all replaced with swim trunks, flip flops, short sleeved button downs, all of which covered in various patterns and colors, that you would usually find in the wardrobe of someoe who lived on a tropical island, maybe.

But not in Elijah Mikaelson’s wardrobe.

Despite his displeased expression, both you and Kol burst out laughing instantly at the sight.

As you had imagined, it was absolutely worth it to see Elijah's face, frowned in aggravation.

He looked as if he’d never been this annoyed in his whole life and that was definitely an accomplishment.

Turning sideways to Kol, he looked just as proud as you felt. 

You shared a high five for a job well done.

Once your laughter had died down, you noticed that Elijah was still stood there, but when he caught your eyes, his face slowly began changing.

The faintest of smirks tugged at the corner of his lips as a little spark danced behind his dark eyes.

You gulped down, the room suddenly becoming frighteningly still.

“I suggest you run.” He remarked flatly, but his eyes had turned even darker and his lips had outstretched into a haunting smirk.

....

You didn’t return to the compound for a month.

Once you did, you and Kol had a lot of catching up to do for the lost month. 

But unsirprisingly you’d had plenty of quiet time, to come up with new ideas, while you were away from the compound.

[celestialrry]

call me baby

psa: this might have a part 2 if anyone wants it, ik its a shitty ending lol but I wouldn’t know what to write after this. also I have another angst piece in the works but its literally taking so long to write 😖

1.8k

summary: Being hopelessly in love with your friend isn’t ideal, especially when Harry doesn’t even seem to see you as more than a therapist. 

warnings: angst, pining, cursing

You looked over at your phone, now vibrating against your bedside table, lit up with his contact photo, a picture of him sticking his tongue out. “Hi.” You picked it up, wrapping your free arm around your torso, sitting up a bit straighter out of instinct even though he couldn't see you.

“Hey, love. Can I get some advice?” He asked through the phone, his voice a bit gravely and deep as always. You silently sighed, biting your lip in hesitation. Everytime you’d get a call from him, he would either rant about his current partner, get advice about them, or just want you to be there when he needed someone to talk to.

Of course you would always be there for him, regardless of time, space, and anyone he gave his heart to. He was Harry Styles for god's sake, your friend since forever, the man who treated everyone like they were the best thing in his life, most of the time at least. He lit up any room he was in and when you’d see him it would always be fulfilling, even if the two of you sat in silence in a room of just four walls.

“Of course, what’s up?” You asked after a brief moment of silence. It was currently 4 in the morning in your single room flat in London and you didn’t think Harry knew that, but you weren't going to tell him.

“It’s just, Ana’s has been so clingy lately and we’ve only been together officially for 3 weeks. It’s making me want to end things.” Harry admitted into the phone. You almost rolled your eyes at his words. Not once has he called you to ask about you in months, but that's just how things were. You weren’t sure why you expected anything else.

“If you aren’t happy with her, end it,” You spoke up after a while, unsure if you were giving him the advice because you were desperate to be with him or it was genuinely what he should do.   “There’s no point in being with her if you’re considering ending it over her being clingy.”

You heard him sigh into the phone before speaking up. “Yeah, we’ll see, thanks,” He said your name. You smiled a bit at that. It was crazy how he could make you feel so special by just the tone of his voice, absurd, really,

“ ‘Course. So-” Before you could say anything else you heard the beep of the phone being hung up. You took a deep breath, trying to think of how Harry and you were before everything changed.

2 years ago

“I can’t believe you’re officially moving to L.A.” You said as you stood in his bedroom doorway, watching him pack up his last few clothes.

“Me neither.” He simply said.

Before you could stop it, you felt a salty tear roll down you cheek. As you wiped it away, he turned around, his face dropping all previous joy, concern flooding his features.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He used the nickname he gave you 11 years ago when we were 10. It was crazy how the two of you had known each other so long, and now you were both 21, and he would be living in the city of angels.

“Just gonna miss seeing you as often as I usually do is all.” You laughed, the tears flowing more freely now. One Direction had just gone on hiatus and after spending some time at home, Harry decided to switch it up a bit. You didn’t understand why he couldn’t just switch it up by not wearing skinny jeans everyday, but it seemed he wanted something bigger than that.

He pouted and walked over to you, giving me a hug before mumbling in your ear, “I’ll call you everyday. Promise.”

Promises were made to be broken, it seemed. He only calls you when he needs a hand, and only answers if he’s alone. You wish you found it more frustrating than painful, maybe that way it would be easier to move on, but you have yet to do so. You’ve asked yourself why you were still silently pining over him, with no answer in sight.

The last time you saw Harry in person was almost a year ago, when he came back to visit his family. Up until that trip he called you everyday, or close too, wanting to know about you day or he just “wanted to hear your voice”. Then when we were together it was like no time had passed while he was away.

1 year ago

“Oh shut up.” You scoffed, lightly punching his bicep.

He just laughed in return, rubbing his arm acting like you had actually hurt him.

“I feel like you just got back and now you’re leaving again,” you said after a bit, knowing he was leaving the next morning. “Plus,” you added, gently playing with his hair. “I’m gonna miss your hair, it’s so fun to braid.”

He looked over at you as your hand fell to rest on his shoulder, running your fingers through his curls. “I know, but I’ll come back soon. I’ll try not to cut my hair for you, don’t worry.” He smiled at you, leaning over and pulling you into a hug.

You just returned his grin and hug, and stuck your fingers through the ringlets, having way too much fun with his hair. You noticed he was looking at you the entire time you were messing with his hair, but you convinced yourself it was because he had nowhere else to look.

Eventually, you were so close to him you could see freckles you never had before. Your breath hitched, not knowing if you should backup or not, your hand still resting on his shoulder in his curls. Then all of a sudden he was far away again, and it was like nothing had ever happened.

Your heart ached with the love you had for Harry, and it seemed nothing could cure it except him and when you woke up the next morning and instinctively checked your phone, you frowned as you noticed no notifications from the one person you truly wanted to hear from.

You weren’t sure when your hurt extended from the pain of practically losing a friend to the pain of not being able to be with someone you love. You weren’t sure when you started seeing his lips as kissable and not something to put lipstick on for fun. You weren’t sure when you started looking at his hands as something to hold and not as a blocker for your playful punches.

You weren’t sure when you started stealing glances more than you usually did or avoiding eye contact because it made you nervous. You weren’t sure when your stomach was no longer empty and then filled with butterflies. You weren’t sure when he stopped calling just to talk, or when he stopped picking up. All you were sure of was that you were hopelessly in love with someone who could never feel the same.

                                                            ✧˖*°࿐

He called a few more times about the same girl, Ana. You had spoken to your friend about it, and you were slowly getting over him. Each time you were getting cut off and hung up on, and it took a really long time for you to know you deserved better. He hadn’t called you since he attempted once and you didn’t answer. It went on for a few months, he would call you almost everyday, alongside texts like “Hello?”, “Pick up, please?”, and the text that came last before you blocked him, “Are you okay?”. He didn’t deserve to know, and sure maybe you shouldn’t have just cut off all contact, but there was no other way to get over him.

A month after you blocked him, and you were no longer sulking when you checked your phone and no longer crying to sleep. You were becoming happy thanks to your self control, and finally learning that just because Harry didn’t love you, didn;t mean you shouldn’t love yourself.

You were sitting on your couch when there was a knock at your door. You looked up from the book in your lapa and stood up, scurrying to the door, not wanting the person at the other side to be waiting.

You swung it open, met with the last face you expected to see. He looked concerned almost, and almost immediately you were wrapping in his arms, after over a year he was holding you once more. Except this time you didn’t want it. You pushed him off of you and stepped back. “What are you doing here Harry?” You asked, a scowl on your face.

“I-y’wouldn’t answer me and then nothing went through, god, I was so worried, love-”

“No,” You shook your head. “Don’t call me that, you can’t just come here after being an asshole to me for over a year. You are not allowed to be worried about me, not when you haven’t bothered to ask how I am after all this time.”

His mouth dropped open in shock, you were always so calm, you never had yelled at him before. “I’m sorry-”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it.” You pursed your lips.

“Just let me explain,” He said, hesitating like he was trying to find an answer to this, but you knew whatever he told you, nothing would change. “I-when we saw each other last, we almost kissed, or at least I almost kissed you, I love you, I was so scared that y’wouldn’t feel the same, and I guess I got caught up in trying to make you jealous. Please, m’so sorry.”

He took a step towards you and you took two steps back. There was no way he felt the same as you did- you had. And even if he did, you always knew he was shit at handling feelings, but there was no excuse.

“No, you can’t do that, say that. I don’t care if you mean it or not,” You began, tearing up. “That-thats’s so fucking terrible to do to someone, especially if you love them. I’m tired Harry, I’m done with you, I’ve been done with you for months.”

“What?” He asked, like he couldn’t believe you.

“Please leave.”

Your heart broke at your own words, but you couldn’t forgive him. Not now, and maybe not ever.

“Please I-”

“I said leave, Harry.”

You could see his watery eyes as he opened his mouth to protest once more, but then closed it. There was nothing he could say. Not anymore. He was always leaving, but this time, for the first time, you wanted him to.

[catxsnow]

DREAMING OF YOU D.W.

Request: hiii can i request an angsty older damian fic where he and the reader broke up but are still very much in love? maybe based out of the song "dream a little dream of me"? the ending is totally up to you!

Warning: angst

A/N: Lol I’ve been so preoccupied with the Halloween prompts I keep forgetting I have requested fics in my drafts. Anyways, I don’t know if this was exactly what you wanted but I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 2.2k

Damian Wayne was the best thing to ever happen to you.

Damian came into your life when you were at your lowest. He was the one that helped you to climb out of that never ending pit that you were stuck in. He made you see the good in the world and that you could still find your own happiness. In the end of it all, you found happiness in him.

It was the little things that you found joy in again. Waking up early enough to see the sunrise. Ice cream on hot summer days. A walk in the park with Titus. Fresh produce from a farmers market. It was those things that drove you to see the light again, all because Damian was willing to stick by your side.

You started planning your life again. Finishing your last two years of your university degree. Buying a new apartment that wasn’t in the slums of Gotham. Reconnecting with family members that you hadn't talked with in months - some even years. You wanted a fresh start, and you had created one.

Damian got you back on track without even realizing it. He gave you hope for the future. Life with him was perfect. You couldn't imagine a future without him. He bled his heart and soul into your relationship, just as you did. Damian was the best thing to ever happen to you. 

Until he wasn't.

The secrets, the lies, it caused fights between you. Damian hid part of his life from you and you couldn't understand why he was being so protective of it. You had opened yourself completely to him, and he couldn't be bothered to do the same. He loved you, there was no doubt about that. It was whether or not he devoted himself as much as you ever did.

You began questioning your entire relationship with him. How much of it was built on his lies? What even were his lies? The more you thought about it, the more you realized that you had only scratched to surface of who Damian really was. You didn't know anything about him, and he didn't want to tell you. He couldn’t.

Which led to the hard decision of whether or not you were willing to keep a relationship that was so one sided. How could you love someone when they were only willing to show a certain side of themselves? The answer: you couldn't. You loved Damian, you would forever. But it came down to the ultimatum of showing the real him or leaving.

Apparently Damian never loved you as much as you thought he did. He was gone by morning.

For weeks your dreams were plagued of him, mundane dreams that felt so real. Him waking you up for the sunrise that shone so perfectly into your window. Instead, when you opened your eyes, grey clouds were all that you could see. The days weren't nearly as pretty without Damian there to share it's beauty with you.

The bed was no longer filled with love and warmth. It was cold, you dreaded getting into it. His side was empty, though his smell still lingered no matter how many times you tried washing it away. Titus' fur would be found in your blankets and a random toy stuck under your couch. He probably missed you more than Damian did.

You swore you saw Damian everywhere after your breakup. At the drive through of your favourite fast food place, the park where you used to sit together, hell you thought you saw him at the grocery store. Damian didn't like grocery shopping, he never went. You felt delusional with seeing him everywhere.

At night when you were alone on the streets, you felt an eerily similar presence as him following you. Sometimes at night that same feeling would draw you towards your window and stare out of it in hopes to see his familiar green eyes. You were disappointed every time.

You never wanted to break up with him. You hoped so desperately that you could have worked things out with him. He was perfect for you, and you to him. Being without him was killing you inside. You missed his love, his smile, his touch, even that adorable little tick he had. TT. You hated when you picked it up and continued to use it without him.

You didn't know it, but Damian was a bigger mess without you.

He missed you more than he ever missed anyone or anything in his life. At home he was quiet, only keeping company with his pets. He refused conversation with his father or Alfred. Dick couldn’t even get through to him. Being back in the manor was something he didn't imagine himself doing. Yet, here he was.

His night life became more violent. He didn't have a fear of holding back his punches anymore because you would never find out his secret. His fucking secret. That was the reason that you were out of his life. Knowing that he was Robin? He didn't want to taint your beautiful life with that.

More times than not he would watch over you. Whether it was when you were walking home or at your apartment. He just needed to know that you were okay. Okay and alive were two very different things. Damian learned that very quickly. Without you, he wasn't sure if he would be okay ever again.

Damian craved your kiss. He didn't realize how lucky he was to even have a small peck here and there until it was taken away from him. There was nothing he wanted to do more than to rush to you and tell you how much he missed you. To hold you in his arms one last time and kiss you until your legs gave out.

He  had dreams of you at night. Dreams of you laying in his arms with a smile on your face. You would tell him about your day and how much you loved him. He felt the warmth of you until the moment he woke up. Then, it was nothing but coldness. A dark, lonely room without any sign of you.

You were the best thing to ever happen to him.

It was that moment when he decided that he had made the biggest mistake of his life. If he cared about you enough, he should have been willing to let you decide if you wanted to stay in his life after knowing his secret. If he wanted you to be with him, then you were going to have to learn it one day.

It seemed easier to hurt you now, than it would have to be hurt by you after knowing everything he had done. Damian took the easy way out. He should have fought for you, trusted you with his secrets. He couldn't let you escape him, not while there was still a strand of hope.

Damian launched himself out of bed. It was nearing two in the morning but he didn't care. He needed to see you right now. He raced across the city on his cycle, passing all the streets in a blur. The way from his father's home to yours was etched into his brain. He could have made it there with his eyes closed if he so wanted to.

The kickstand on his bike was barely pulled out and his helmet thrown to the ground. Damian ran to your doorstep and feverishly knocked on your door. He was most likely to wake you, but it was worth it. He was ready to spill his heart and soul out to you and plead for you to take him back.

To his surprise, you opened the door relatively fast. You looked so effortlessly beautiful. A pair of shorts on a bag shirt - his shirt. Your hair was sopping wet and it was clear that you had just gotten out of the shower. Bags were under your eyes and you looked like you hadn't slept since your break up.

You stood there, mouth agape, unsure of what the hell he was doing at your door step at two in the morning on a Wednesday. It was raining out, Damian's hair matched your own. He was soaked to the bone and his clothes clung to him. A desperate look was on his face.

"Damian..." You breathed out. He looked like a wreck. Creases around his eyes that had never been there before were evident. His hands trembled at his sides - though that might have just been from the cold. "What're you doing here?"

"I needed to see you," Damian started. His heart clenched at the sight of you. "I needed to apologize for everything that I did, for keeping things from you. I was so scared that if you knew the truth about me that I would lose you."

"You lost me anyways, Damian," You shook your head. He was the one that decided to walk out on you after you were willing to put in the work. It was Damian that made that decision, he lost you because he choose to. All of this was his fault and only his fault - the secrets he kept, the choices he made.

"Please, please just let me explain everything," Damian begged. He didn't know if he could ever live with himself if you turned him away in this moment. "If you want me to leave after, I will. You'll never have to see or hear from me again, just... I can't go on anymore knowing that there's someway that I can try to fix this. That there’s still a chance of getting you back."

You crossed your arms over your chest, debating whether or not you were willing to be hurt by him again. Damian was the love of your life, he would always be the love of your life. Letting him explain himself too you, that was either going to be the ticket he needed back into your life, or the closure you finally needed. Or something far worse.

So, maybe mistakenly, you opened the door wider to let Damian in. Your home hadn't changed much in the weeks that he was gone. It was messier, but otherwise identical. Several picture frames of the two of you were turned down, but not put away. His hoodie that he left behind was still strewn across the back of the chair.

He thanked you as you handed him a towel. Damian sat on your coffee table directly across from your spot on the couch. He paused for a moment, wondering where to begin and how far back he needed to go. If you were going to take him back after that night, you would deserve to know everything.

For now, he started with his arrival in Gotham City all those years ago.

He told of you his life with his father, his brothers. The teams that he had been on and the struggles that he had been through. Damian told you of his hardships, his dreams, his failures. He told you of the times that he had lost all hope and the times that you had given some back to him.

Damian told you everything there was to know about his life as Robin.

By the end of it, you were in tears. All those times that he lied to you about what he was going or where he was going, his 'business trips' for his father, they were all because he was risking his life to be Robin. Damian was a hero, and you were too oblivious to even notice. You were so focused on his lies that you didn't want to see why he was doing so. Everything he did was to protect you.

Damian reached forward and wiped away your tears. He didn't want to see you upset from his. Your bottom lip trembled. You felt horrible for being cruel to him so many times because you didn't know the truth. Without another thought, you leaped into his arms.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," You sobbed against him. Damian kissed the top of your head. He cupped your cheeks, making you meet his eyes. His gaze flickered down to your lips for a split second before looking back to yours. It was a subtle way of asking if it as okay. You answered by initiating your long awaited kiss.

The weeks apart left a yearning for you both. This kiss was the one thing that both of you craved most. The tenderness of it, the love that fueled it. You felt like you were going to combust from how much you missed his kisses. Your dreams of him kissing you were nothing compared to this.

"I love you," Damian pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. He was petrified to let you go again, scared that you wouldn't come back this time. Dreams of you would never be enough for him. Damian needed you like he needed air. "I can't live without you. I dreamed of you ever night."

"I wished upon the stars every night hoping that you would come back to me," You confessed. "Please don't leave me again."

"Never, beloved."

[nincompoopydoo]

DEBRIS AND MISERY

DOUBT MAKES THE STRONG WEAK ; PART 8 / ?

PAIRING: Loki Laufeyson x Female!Reader WORD COUNT: 3.5k SUMMARY: From concussions to destruction, you find yourself developing an odd trust in the last two people you would even begin to have faith in and when the apocalypse seems unavoidable, you discover that there may be more to the mystery of the universe. A/N: Well, this chapter is long. And mainly pertains around the theme of 'doubt'. A lot more of Sylvie stuff and Loki just having heart eyes the whole time. I love this chapter and I can’t wait to write more as the story ends. Please tell me what you love, hate, anything (maybe theories lol). Thank you for showing so much love. gif from this gifset by @kamalaskhans WARNINGS: Swearing. Apocalypse. Injuries. Blood. support my writing through ko-fi💖 MASTERPOST ; MASTERLIST

You were once a fighter.

Hunter E-87 was the name you once knew, hollered through different fields and dimensions in time and space. You fought for what you thought was right, pledging allegiance to a cosmic establishment that held all power to a single timeline and never questioned the works of the Time-Keepers. The Sacred Timeline is indeed sacrosanct, too important, too valuable to interfere. You fight in the name of the single thread of time, the bark of a tree, forbidden to bare branches of a potential multiverse. You fight because the thought of alternate timelines used to scare you. Yet, if alternate universes were meant to be, the lives you took and destroyed are now in the grasp of your bloody hands. You hold the responsibility of the death of the innocent, taking part in mass genocide.

But promises must be kept.

The thought constantly haunts you in your sleep. You have dreams of death, war, destruction, and famine from across the universe. People seem to glide like specters in the world built by your imagination and mind. You have seen a lot, more than any being in the universe should, but no one talks about the aftermath of witnessing the tragedy of the universe as time goes on and on. No one talks about what it does to the mind. Music from cassettes and the wonder of human space exploration were distractions to cope with the grinding hole in you and the fact you might be turning truly crazy.

Sometimes, you would like to be human—Fewer problems and less time to live.

You blame the sickening and bizarre vivid images that come and go whenever you close your eyes as a symptom of being a hunter. The others are stronger than you. Well, they act like they are. Becoming an analyst made you sleep better but there was always doubt. Sakaar made you doubt.

Doubt makes the strong weak. Doubt makes you weak.

“You startin’ to have doubts?”

Green eyes. They watch you with curiosity with a hint of amusement. You hear yourself hum. “Would it be bad if I said yes?”

He laughs. It’s mighty. “Yeah. Definitely bad.”

A beat of silence. You feel your eyes start to sting. “I couldn’t even tell my mom.” A laugh escapes your lips despite the hurt you feel in your chest. “Did you tell anyone? Your wife?”

You see him now, blonde hair slicked back and deep-set eyes. He shakes his head. “Nope. Not even my wife.”

“She’ll be proud, you know.”

“I know...So will your mom. Jesus, you’re gonna be the first woman on—”

Wake up.

“—Is she dead?”

The voice is familiar. It pulls you back to reality but right now, your eyes are too heavy. Doubt is the first emotion that waves through your brain before the process of pain can even occur—uncertain if you are dead or alive.

You can’t feel your limbs, they are too weak.

Doubt makes the strong weak. Doubt makes you weak.

Maybe, you are dead.

“This is your fault! You’re the one who swung that sword of yours to her head! You’re careless—”

Sword...Sword...Careless? You remember a train, a fight.

“Oh, I’m the one who’s careless? You’re the one who’s drunk!”

Drunk...Who was drunk?

Then, your voice echoes in your head, images of a certain brunette with a deep frown. He called you a mewling quim. You quoted Hávamál. You then left him and wandered through the other cabins of the train. He blew his cover. He got you into a fight.

Loki. Loki Laufeyson.

Son of a bitch.

Your eyes are wide open now. All you see are the faces of Loki and Sylvie, looming over you. Just two floating heads. Then, the pain arrives, coursing through the entire back of your head. You wince in immediate reaction and the floating heads turn to you in an instant.

What a way to wake up from a concussion.

You remember everything now, but you certainly don’t recall being on the outside of the train. Must have gotten thrown out. The thought angers you, irritation practically boiling to the brim. Yet, it’s your fault. You hadn't thought to babysit the very person you wish were dead. As your palm grips onto the dirt beneath, muscling all strength left to lift yourself. Your head feels light and heavy all at once. Not good.

“Are you alright?” is the question that flies from Loki’s lips, tinged with an emotion you never knew he had for another but himself—worry. Whether selfless or selfish, you wish to ignore the complexity of Loki’s reactions and possible change in character, especially towards you. Ever since you stepped foot on Lamentis, all you felt was pain. You have never been injured so much within the last few hours than in your entire life and weirdly, you feel fine.

Sylvie is quick to stand, watching the two of you work in tandem. His grip finds the curve of your shoulders as you stick your hand out to grip him by the bicep. At your touch, you notice how his arm stiffens ever so slightly. You don’t say anything.

Some things about Loki are best left unknown and unanswered.

Today is filled with a lot of getting off the ground in the most unceremonious way possible.

A deep exhale leaves your lips, wisps of your hair drifting with the brutal breeze from your nostrils. Beads of sweat trail along the curve of your forehead and the back of your neck. Some entangled with the strands of your hair. Your hands feel clammy and dirty but you run them to push your hair back and away from your face anyway.

“I’m fine,” you mumble, pulling yourself away from his touch.

You finally get a good look at the two. Loki looks like complete shit but Sylvie manages to maintain the regalness to the locks of her hair despite her opposing overall behavior. It’s the Asgardian blood coursing through her veins. You cannot hide your ancestors' blood. It’s hard to believe the two are the same—one being. Yet, it's believable when you’re angry at the two of them.

The two messed up your career, that’s why.

Unbothered and uncivilized. It’s a miracle you’re still alive.

As your eyes shift along the train tracks that meander along a gorge with steep rocky walls that leer above it, you catch sight of a spark by your feet, glinting under the iridescent sky.

It’s the TemPad, shattered into pieces; you recognize the color gold of its border.

Your eyes grow wide, mouth agape. You don’t even feel angry anymore, it’s more than that. You stick out your hand to gesture towards the destroyed device, “Is that—Is that the TemPad?” you ask as your other hand lifts to hold the side of your head. “Or am I just seeing things from the concussion?”

Sylvie is the one to speak. “It’s not the concussion.”

You suddenly feel like you’re burning.

If it were possible, you could have instantly killed him with a look.

“You. You killed us!” you step closer to him and for a moment, Loki doesn’t exactly know what to do. “So, it’s my fault then? You were the one who left me alone in the lounge.” are the words that leave his lips. Completely useless. Trying to diffuse the tension is the exact opposite of what he does.

His silver tongue isn’t so shiny and silver anymore.

You don’t pull your blow this time. Your palm strikes his cheek, rocking his head to the side. Your hand is oddly soft. Loki winces and you stand your ground. “You’re a jerk and an asshole. You’ve probably been called that for all your life and yet, here you are. Still, the most insensitive and pathetic man I’ve ever met,” you articulate your words with frustration and rage. You don’t raise your voice like before, it’s low and frightfully intimidating. “And I’m not your babysitter.”

—

Battles, ruination, and fracas gave a sense of familiarity to Sylvie in a time of an impending apocalypse. When worlds end, benevolence is resolute. The tragedy of the end of lost souls—afraid to die. But as daunting as the apocalypse is, the beauty of their souls finally returning to the universe protrudes amongst the debris and misery.

She sees herself in the two of you, as much as she doesn’t identify as a Loki anymore, and her hatred towards the TVA. You have a temper and he doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut.

You’re mysterious in an almost enchanting way and possibly significant as you seemed to be at first glance. Sylvie is highly curious about you.

You don’t stray too far from the group, only to find rest by the edge of a pit made by a crashing meteor. You sit with your back turned against the very two beings you distrust as you watch the border where the bustling city of Shuroo is based. Your guard is down and you don’t care at this point. Everyone is about to die anyway.

Sylvie’s gaze finds Loki who seems to be only watching the back of your still figure, eyes glinting with an emotion unknown to her. Possibly regret? Sylvie doesn’t know what regret looks like. But fear and anger, she feels it radiating from you. She knows it. Something tells her you’re not solely angry at her and Loki.

She finds herself drifting closer to you. You don’t move. She cautiously settles beside you. “You’re not hiding a knife somewhere, aren’t you?”

You merely scoff, caressing your head, “You’re the one to say.”

Sylvie blinks. Fair enough.

Silence. Sylvie’s eyes shift to the handkerchief tied around your arm, stained with blood. “How’s the arm?”

You hum. “Surprisingly, fine.”

Oh, Sylvie knows it’s fine. She knows what Loki did. She decides not to mention the scratch she made across your cheek.

“Did the slap make you feel better?”

The question is hinted at near sarcasm, but genuinely, she wants to know.

“Yes, it did. You should try it sometime.”

She simply hums. “I would have but you beat me to it.”

A turn of your lips as they curve into a small smile. Sylvie watches with an odd sense of satisfaction. “You know, I’m still mad at you. For what you did to me.” Your words are slow. You find yourself swallowing. “But it’s nothing compared to what the TVA did to you.”

Empathy. Is this what empathy feels like? The moment when someone finally understands what it’s like to be alone for so long. Your lives are different but they reflect in certain ways. You have had your fair share of living in constant fear and constantly running. Sylvie finds herself wanting to tell you that she hadn’t simply pushed you into Sakaar. When it’s a mission, things are never accidental. She always has a plan.

Yet, she chooses not to say anything.

You speak again but merely whisper, fidgeting with your fingers, “Before Sakaar—did you enchant me?”

It's as if you're reading her mind.

“Are you seeing things?”

After a pause, the fidgeting stops.

“I’ve seen things all my life, images. Brief and insignificant. But ever since I was in Sakaar, it’s gotten a lot harder to differentiate a dream and a memory.”

“That’s because they aren’t dreams.”

Your hardened gaze finds hers for a brief moment, nearly growing wide at her words but in an instant, your guard is up once you hear the shuffling of feet behind you where Loki lingers. The subject is dropped immediately. He meets Sylvie’s gaze, the two share a knowing look.

Your anger is provoked and well deserved and yet, the last thing he wants is to be your enemy. Loki doesn’t know why. He has lived a life full of them.

You’re different.

He stills, wondering if you’re going to lash out at him again but when he notices your slow breaths, he decides to sit next to you anyway, awkward glances to you in his periphery. A deep sigh escapes his lips, fiddling with his fingers. “What now?”

Sylvie is the one to answer. “I don’t know. You broke the TemPad.”

“Well—”

“And that planet is about to crash into us.”

Loki looks up at the nearing planet of Lamentis. He blinks. “Well, yes, but—”

“Yes, but what?”

“Well, the entire moon is destroyed, right?”

Sylvie is trying to suppress your growing annoyance. “Yep. And everyone on it is killed.”

But Loki pesters on. “Including us.”

She raises her voice. “Yes, including us.” Loki glances at you momentarily. A pause. He furrows his brows in thought.

“What about the ark?”

“The ark never leaves because it's destroyed.”

Suddenly, an epiphany, his eyes light up. He turns to you and Sylvie, “Never had us on it.”

You suddenly scoff at his words. “Are you suggesting we hijack the ark and make sure it gets off this moon?” You turn to him to only spot a vague smile playing upon his lips. He nods in return. “Sounds like a good idea to me, Agent.”

You merely blink, watching the way his eyes shift across your face. First, you’re struck with uncertainty. It’s a risk, a huge one but you know, risks are meant to be uncertain. Risks are also vital in success. Hesitation, doubt—they make you weak. This time, you want to be strong. Strong enough for one last push to save your life.

“Okay.” is what you say, your expression reflecting his.

For the first time, since he took your hand in Sakaar, you’re starting to trust him.

—

The walk to Shuroo seemed endless. You trail behind the two, feeling like you’re about to suffocate.

“—To preserve the connection, I have to create a fantasy from their memories.”

Loki and Sylvie had been conversing about the science and functions of enchantment in a rather surprisingly calm manner. Loki hums, amused by her elucidation. “And you call me a magician.”

Her expression is unchanged as she continues to trudge alongside Loki, ignoring his previous statement. “That young soldier from the TVA, her mind was messed up. Everything clouded. I had to pull a memory from hundreds of years prior...before she even fought for them.”

Loki halts abruptly in his step, hand flying to grab Sylvie’s arm. “What? What'd you say? Before she joined the TVA?”

Sylvie blinks. “Yeah. She was just a regular person on Earth.”

His mind starts to reel, face muddled with confusion. “I was told that everyone who works for the TVA was created by the Time-Keepers.”

“That's ridiculous. They're all variants, just like us. Including her.” Sylvie gestures discreetly to you who has stopped to take a breather, hands on your hips as you blink up to the sky.

You, Mobius, all of them. All variants.

“They don't know that. She doesn’t know that.” he breathes a terrified expression.

Sylvie looks at you from afar. You’re now looking at them with a bewildered expression. “What?” you call out, voice echoing through the wide area, in a somewhat defensive tone.

She turns to Loki once more, voice nearly faltering. “I have a feeling she already knows it.”

—

Loki doesn’t realize the unfamiliarity of hopelessness. Throughout his life, he was constantly surrounded by those with unfaltering determination—His brother, family, friends who were warriors, The Avengers.

Never was it known that he would see it burning in your eyes as they reflect the growing fire of the Ark, crumbling down, tongues of fire engulfing it whole before you. His heart burns with it as Shuroo falls quiet—only the sounds of the metallic crashing of the disintegrating parts of the ship falling from above and the screams of the rich and deemed worthy to live. Every Lamentian still alive held their breath, a moment's silence for their lives must end. Everything must end.

So close yet so far.

Sylvie is gone by the minute as the city starts to descend in terror and panic. He stands behind your still form, just watching your only chance of making it out, swallowed by its own billowing smoke. He reaches out for you, tugging you by the sleeve. “We should leave,” he says with a sudden sense to protect you. There isn’t much to do at this point. It doesn't matter if you are hit by the falling pieces of the Ark because you are all going to die anyway.

But he considers it a gesture, as insignificant and small it is. The least he could do is to distract you from the end, whether for a mere second or minutes.

“I know things haven’t been the best between us and I concede I bring out the worst in you, but I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

You turn to Loki with his sudden words. He watches the way your expression softens so gracefully, face adorned with gashes and wounds. Your mouth twitches as you respond with a gentle voice. “I forgive you.”

Three words. Very powerful words.

His heart skips a beat.

You find Sylvie at the brink of the city, sitting on a stretched slab of rock amongst the dirt, watching the horizon where the planet starts to meet the moon. Loki still has his hand around your arm, but you don’t complain. It’s your only source of support at the moment. It’s an unconscious move, but everything about it feels right when the two of you settle beside her, shoulders brushing against each other. It only makes sense to want to feel the nearness, the closeness of another as the light at the end of the tunnel begins to dim.

It’s impending. It’s scary.

“I remember Asgard.”

Sylvie’s voice trembles, her eyes are somber.

“Not much, but I remember. My home, my people, my life. Then, the TVA showed up, erased my reality, and took me, prisoner. I was just a child.”

You turn to her, guilt bubbling in your chest, but you don’t say anything. You let her speak. It’s only right.

“I escaped.” she breathes, blinking the brimming tears in her eyes away. ”Stole a TemPad and I ran for a long, long time, which really sucked. Everywhere and every-when I went, it caused a Nexus event.”

Sylvie turns to you with a melancholic gaze. “The universe wants to break free, so it manifests chaos. Like me being born the Goddess of Mischief. But to you and the TVA, I’m not supposed to exist.”

For so long, you hadn’t realized the consequences of your work at the TVA. You believed you were right. That erasing, resetting realities were meant to be. You cannot comprehend how it only occurred to you to question the authority of the Time-Keepers over time itself after Sakaar. All those years of being ignorant and selfish. You hadn’t realized. You never did.

But now you know.

Sylvie continues, gaze shifting away from you. “I figured out where to hide. And so that's where I grew up, the ends of a thousand worlds. Now...that's where I'll die.”

Then, silence. It sits heavily between the three of you.

“The universe—isn’t she beautiful?” Your voice is soft, eyes trained on the horizon—a fleet of asteroids, they reflect the end. But they seem to dance to the silence of the apocalypse, drifting across the stratosphere, lining the firmament. Loki’s gaze shifts to you, training on every curve of your face and the tears slipping down your cheeks. He agrees, the universe is beautiful.

You’re beautiful.

“She brings turmoil, agony, and destruction but in all her flaws, there’s beauty in her very existence.”

Your hands find Sylvie and Loki’s hands, holding on to them tightly as you fight the wavering of your voice.

“You...Both of you might be the epitome of chaos but you must know that you have such beautiful souls. All of us, we're her children...and if she is beautiful, so are we. And the Universe is always right. If she created you then we are wrong.”

Sylvie’s face is soft. Loki squeezes your hand.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. I should have known from the start...that the TVA was lying to all of us. I should have questioned. I should have doubted—”

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault,” she says, smiling with saddened eyes.

You laugh. You don’t know why, but you do. Maybe, it’s because you know you are a part of the problem anyway, even if you were just doing your job.

You find Loki’s gaze that’s already on you. You sigh and speak through a whisper. “I’m sorry for slapping you.”

His lips curve into a grin, eyes crinkling like your own. “It was well deserved, but I forgive you.”

Fingers entangled with the hands of two unlikely people, you finally realize what it truly feels like to not be alone. To be in the company of someone you want to be with.

“Now long now.” Those three words leave the very lips of Sylvie and your chest feels like it’s about to collapse.

You never knew you were afraid of death, yet here you are—terrified.

The ground shakes beneath you. It’s dark and there’s fire everywhere. A meteor collides to the ground just across the way, it sends smoke billowing to its surroundings faster than you can blink.

Even in the last seconds of your life, you have doubts remaining. What if the universe isn’t always right?

Then, through the growing dust, you see a spark, like lightning. A glint of a figure, standing before you. White, pure, and serene. You’re standing now, staring ahead. Sylvie and Loki cease to exist in your mind as they gaze at you with bewilderment. They anxiously call you by your name but you don’t hear it. There’s only silence now, you don’t hear anything but the ringing in your ears.

A voice, she speaks with dignity. A voice so familiar.

“Doubt makes the strong weak, my child.”

Then, you hear it. A soft hum—a Time Door glows warmth amid your impending death.

Suddenly, she’s gone.

TAGLIST:

@lareinedususpense

@poubxlle

@mystoragehatesme

@the-maroon-panda

@kashasenpai

@nyxrae

@johnmurphys-sass

[ghstandpucks]

Toe Pick ~ Jeff Skinner

Hello! Sorry I have kinda been MIA, I’ve had a lot going on personally lately. This idea came to my head though and I could not pass up writing it! I just love the fact that Jeff was a figure skater lol I hope you are all doing well and staying safe and healthy! Enjoy!

Summary: Being partnered with Jeff as a pairs team caused you both to rely on each other at an early age. When life’s ‘toe picks’ come along though, your friendship was tested. And when a toe pick later on throws you back into each others lives, will it be the same?

Warnings: None, just fluff!

Master List 

The toe pick at the front of a figure skater’s blade can either create phenomenal moments in a routine, or can bring a skater down. The sharp points can do some damage, but also give the ability to fly when tapped correctly into the ice. You can often hear figure skaters talk about toe picks, and for two kids in particular, saying “toe pick” when they stumbled became a game. On and off the ice, the two were inseparable. That was, until a ‘toe pick’ in life took them away from one another.

Past ~ 2000

           Eight-year-old Jeff Skinner was working on his flying camel, waiting for his coach to get on the ice and start his lesson. It wasn’t just any lesson today though. He was scheduled to meet a new girl who just joined the skating club, one that his coach thought would pair with him perfectly for a pair skating event. Jeff wasn’t so sure about skating with a partner at first, but then after watching a senior skating pair perform, he changed his mind. The throws and different spins that could be done with a skating partner interested him, so he let his coach talk him into it.

He had been told that the new girl had just moved to the area. You were also a single skater with promising talent and a year younger than Jeff. His coach had watched you try out for their skating club, and asked if you would be interested in pairs skating as your showman-like style was almost uncannily the same as Jeff’s. You smiled and nodded, just excited to be accepted into the prestigious club.

           As Jeff stopped what he was doing to look at the clock on the wall, he felt someone run into his back. “Sorry! Toe pick,” a giggle came from behind him. He turned and saw a girl about his age, grinning with a missing tooth off to the side. Jeff laughed to himself.

           “It’s fine. Are you okay?” he asked. He had never seen you before, and started to think you may be who he was being partnered up with.

           “I’m fine! I’m Y/N. I just moved here,” you introduced yourself. Jeff smiled, a toothy grin that matched yours.

           “I’m Jeff. Are you skating pairs?” he asked, and you nodded.

           “I was singles, but they asked me to switch when I tried out. I don’t know who I’m partnered with though,” you admitted.

           “I think you might be my new partner…” was all Jeff was able to say before his coach skated over to the two of you.

           “Jeff, I see you’ve already met Y/N. I think you two will get along great. If you’re both warmed up, why don’t we get started with the basics,” Ms. Seale said, and the two young skaters nodded. The next hour was spent learning how to stand and skate in perfect unison, the two kids fitting each other’s speed and style flawlessly, almost as if they were meant to be paired up.

           Three years later, you and Jeff were still skating pairs and about to enter your first junior’s national competition. After taking the ice for your groups warm up, the two of you waited off to the side with your coach running back and forth to see where the order of skaters was at. “Don’t drop me,” you leaned into Jeff as you always did before a performance.

           “You trust me?” he grinned at you, holding out his pinky.

           “Always,” you smiled back, wrapping your pinky around his. Pinky promises became a thing for the two of you when you first started learning lifts. You were nervous, and Jeff promised that he would never drop you. He had always kept that promise, even going as far as breaking your fall with his own body just to keep your trust. Your coach came to get you a few minutes later, and grabbing your hand Jeff led you out onto the ice. You took silver at that competition, the names Jeff Skinner and Y/N Y/L/N becoming known in the competition circuit.

           Two years after that, when Jeff was 13 and you were 12, Jeff hurt himself while doing a double axel. The two of you had just won junior nationals and were working on senior level moves. His injury caused you to pull out of an upcoming competition, the both of you devastated. “I’m really sorry Y/N,” Jeff said one evening as the two of you were doing homework together. Being skating partners had drawn the two of you close together on and off the ice. You trusted Jeff with your life, and may have formed a small crush on him over the years.

           “It’s okay J. It’s just a toe pick in the plan. You’ll heal and we’ll be back out there before you know it,” you tried to reassure him.

           “What if I don’t though?” he asked, worried this injury could be more serious than either of you were thinking.

           “Hey, do you trust me?” you asked, holding your pinky out toward him. He grinned and this time wrapped his pinky around yours.

           “Always.”

           Unfortunately, the injury Jeff sustained took a while to heal. It also caused him to choose between hockey and figure skating. Jeff didn’t want to give up on you, but he also wanted to pursue hockey. You smiled when he told you and supported him the best you could, even though you went home that day and cried your eyes out. How were you supposed to find a new partner? You and Jeff had been skating together for five years at that point, you didn’t want to start over with someone else. You tried though, and eventually found a partner that was compatible enough to compete with. Jeff would ask you how things were going when you saw each other, and you would always lie, saying things were great when really you couldn’t stand your new partner.

           Though the two of you stayed friends for a while, you always going to Jeff’s hockey games and him coming to open skate and competitions for you, you eventually drifted apart when Jeff graduated high school. You couldn’t help but feel like when Jeff traded in his toe picks for hockey skates, he traded you in as well. A few years later you closed the door on your skating career after a particularly bad injury, and the memories were all that was left of the toothless grinning boy you had first met on the ice that one day way back when.

Present Day­

           Take the job in Buffalo they said, you muttered to yourself as once again your socks were all wet from not wearing the proper foot wear and stepping in a puddle on the way to the rink. It had been years since you skated competitively, now being 27. When you graduated high school, you went to college and earned a degree in media, sticking with sports. You mainly stuck around the figure skating circuit, also finding a job as a coach to put yourself through college. A month ago, a job was offered to you at a local news station in Buffalo as their sports reporter, and you jumped at the opportunity.

           When you arrived at the rink, you changed into your tights and leggings. Skating always destressed you, and after settling in to your new place and trying to learn the ropes of the station, you needed some time to unwind. Only a few people were skating, the rink being otherwise deserted as the weather outside wasn’t the kindest at the moment.

           Stepping out onto the ice, a relaxed smile spread across your face. You mindlessly curved on your edges, letting muscle memory take over. Ever so briefly did you let your eyes close, basking in the chill of the air and the sounds of your blades carving through the ice. A moment later though, you were pulled out of your head as your blade caught a particularly deep rivet in the ice, causing you to trip forward on your toe pick. With a squeak you were almost ashamed of leaving your mouth, you fell into the back of a stranger. “Oh my God, I am so so sorry! I caught my toe pick and…” you trailed off as the stranger turned around.

           “Toe picks can be nasty, no worries,” he smiled at you, then stopped himself. It would have been the perfect romcom meet-cute, if the two of you hadn’t recognized each other in an instant. “Y/N?” Jeff asked, not entirely believing you were this beautiful woman who just collided with him.

           “J,” you whispered, shocked as well. “What are you doing here?”

           “I play for Buffalo?” he said, smiling but unsure at the moment. You were honestly the last person he expected to see that morning. Your face went red out of embarrassment. Of course you had followed his career; you knew he was in Buffalo but in the haste of your move you forgot.

           “I knew that,” you mumbled out, and blushed at his chuckle. Why was it after all these years, you could feel your crush resurfacing the second he smiled at you?

           “I’m more curious as to why you’re here?” he asked, leaning on his hockey stick.

           “Just moved actually. I’m a sports reporter now for the local Buffalo news,” you smiled at him and Jeff grinned.

           “No shit!” he exclaimed, pulling you into a hug. You gladly wrapped your arms around him, feeling at home for once in this new city.

           A week had passed and you had talked to Jeff every day of it. What started out as a “How are you settling in?” text, turned into constant messages, a quick phone call, and even a facetime when he was on the road that weekend, with plans made for coffee the following week when he was back.

           That coffee turned into lunch, which turned into Jeff taking you around to a few places and now the two of you were at dinner, having spent the whole day together. The two of you were catching up, and easily fell into your younger selves where physical contact wasn’t a big deal because you were constantly holding hands on the ice. It was as if the years had never passed, and you realized your feelings for Jeff had never truly gone away. He would smile at you, and just like that you were seven years old again running into him your first day at the rink. “Are you working Friday night?” Jeff asked as he drove you home that evening.

           “No, I’m off actually. Why?” you asked. Jeff cleared his throat, seeming a little nervous about what he was going to say next.

           “Would you want to come to my game? I can get you a ticket,” he said, glancing at you quickly. You smiled and nodded.

           “I would love to!” you said, a little too enthusiastically but it made Jeff visibly relax. “You don’t have to get me a ticket though. I can buy one.”

           “No. It’s the first pro game of mine that you’ll be at, I’m getting you a ticket,” he stated, then added, “Don’t argue with me,” as you opened your mouth to do so.

           “Thank you,” was all you said with a giggle. Jeff smiled as you both fell back into an easy conversation.

~ ~ ~

           Friday came and you were being shown to your seat at the arena by an attendant. You thanked him and sat down, waiting for the Sabres to take the ice. Looking around, you twiddled your thumbs at being right up against the glass. What did Jeff do to get you this seat? Before you could second guess coming though, the team took the ice and you immediately found your old skating partner. A few minutes later he locked eyes with you and skated over with a big grin. He tugged on his jersey and pointed at you as you smiled back at him. You had bought a Sabres’ jersey for the occasion, Jeff spotting the 53. Nodding, you turned around slightly to show him the “Skinner” across the back. If Jeff’s grin could get any larger, it would have split his face. Seeing you there at his game, in his jersey, after all these years brought back all the feelings of being young with you; leaning on you; putting his whole trust in you. The Sabres may be his current teammates, but you would always be his first teammate; his first crush; his first love.

           The game was a tough one, the Sabres barely pulling out a win. You were so relieved when the final buzzard sounded. Jeff had asked you to meet him outside the locker room earlier that day, so you made your way there. Standing off to the side, you watched some of the guys spill out to their loved ones, smiling at how familiar it all felt. You remembered in high school when you used to wait for Jeff after his games with his parents.

           A couple minutes later you spotted the slightly curly hair of the man you had grown up with. He grinned as he spotted you, and lifted you into a big bear hug once he got to you. “Congrats J! Good game,” you said into his neck before he set you down.

           “I’m so glad you came,” he said softly, and you blushed under his gaze. “I’m glad you moved here,” he whispered.

           “Me too,” you said under your breath. Jeff was about to say something when your moment was interrupted.

           “You must be the old figure skating partner Jeff won’t shut up about,” the Sabres’ captain Jack Eichel patted Jeff’s shoulder and extended his hand to you.

           “That would be me. Hope it was positive,” you tried to hide your nerves with a joke. Jeff rolled his eyes.

           “Trust me?” he held out his pinky to you like he would when you were younger.

           “Always,” you responded automatically as Jack looked on amused.

~ ~ ~

           After that evening, you went to all of Jeff’s home games that you could. The two of you were also together all the time, practically spending every free moment with each other. Two months later you were curled up into Jeff as you watched a movie at his apartment. You weren’t together, but it was obvious to everyone around you that the feelings were there. Since you were used to being physically close to him, many thought you were already together. The both of you would awkwardly laugh those comments off.

           As the movie credits rolled, you sat up and looked at the time, realizing you should probably get home as it was almost midnight. You started to unwrap yourself from the blanket on top of you when Jeff spoke up. “Don’t go,” he whispered.

           “It’s late J,” you laughed lowly.

           “Exactly. Stay,” he smiled softly, but had a serious look in his eyes. “I hate saying goodbye to you.”

           “I’ll see you tomorrow,” you smiled, slightly confused by what he said. Jeff shook his head and sat up.

           “That’s not entirely what I meant,” he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand as you took his other hand in yours.

           “Then how did you mean it?” you asked, keeping your eyes on his. Jeff sucked in his lips, looking at you thoughtfully.

           “I’ve always felt bad for choosing hockey over you; over being your partner. I felt terrible when you got hurt and I wasn’t around to stop it from happening. When we lost touch, there wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think of reaching out to you, but didn’t cause I was worried it was too late. And now you’re here, and back in my life and I don’t want to make those same mistakes all over again,” he said. You squeezed his hand.

           “I hope you know I don’t blame you for any of that Jeff. You had to do what was best for you, and I’m so proud of you. Life just dealt us some…”

           “Toe picks?” he interjected causing you to laugh.

           “Yeah, some toe picks,” you said softly. The two of you sat in comfortable silence, letting his words sink in. “I don’t want to lose you again either,” you whispered, and Jeff sent you a smile that made your heart flutter. Slowly, you both leaned in closer to each other, your lips finally meeting. It was everything you ever thought kissing Jeff would be like, and so much more. As you separated, you both had the largest smiles on your faces. Slowly, Jeff stood up and pulled you along with him.

           “Do you trust me?” he asked, sweeping a piece of hair behind your ear. This time you knew Jeff wasn’t teasing when he said those words, he wasn’t just asking because you were worried about him dropping you, but asking because your relationship was about to dive into uncharted territory, and he knew that it would change everything. Though, then maybe it wouldn’t. Being “together” was simple because you had skated together for so long.

           Taking his hand, you nodded. “Always,” you said, meaning it with every fiber of your being. Jeff smiled that brilliant, infectious smile at you, and led you to down the hall to his room. That night you both fell asleep tangle up with each other, and completely in love with this figure skating boy turned hockey player that you had known for what felt like eternity.

[tintinwrites]

when we’re alone | 1930′s!Din Djarin x Fem!Reader | Part Three

A/N: Din is such a sweet, awkward man!!

Rating: T

Warning: Din likes you. Mentions of killing people.

Word count: 1,544, apparently!!

Summary: Din has been staying with you for a few days and finds that he really enjoys it; you show him how to play gin.

Masterlist

GIF credit: damerondjarin yes it’s Javi lol

Tags: @revolution-starter @computeringturtle @estrela-rogers @stars-trash-18 @softly-sad @wonder-jedi @bisexual-space-slut @starlight-starwrites @ollypopp @phoenixhalliwell @just-ladyme @maytheglitter @the-last-twin-of-krypton @dancing-tacos-23 @yourworshipfulness​ 

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

Din forgot how alone he was.

With so many years of being feared by others and living by himself in his tiny, dim apartment, it was easy to grow used to the hollowness in his chest as if it was just another part of him.

It was when he moved into your guest bedroom to keep watch over you that he was acutely aware of his loneliness in the same way he had been years ago, when he’d first realized that there was no hope for him to be anything but alone as the whispers and people running from him started.

He’d spent so long shoving it down and now there you were, reminding him again.

You hadn’t stopped acting in the few days he’d been there, still smiling at him, and offering him nice little things, and thanking him over and over again for what he was doing, and he was starting to wonder if maybe you weren’t acting at all.

Even when others did pretend they weren’t frightened of him, they would still flinch when he was too near, or show the fear in their eyes, or drop the facade altogether to insult him or hide from him.

But you remained sweet and hospitable, and the loneliness that made up such a big part of him almost hurt now because of it.

He wasn’t sure if he was charmed by you or just someone being kind by him, but either way, he was starting to grow rather fond of your presence.

He would always wake up earlier than you and take the newspaper from the terrified elevator attendant, trying to read it and then tossing it aside when he realized how boring the stories were.

The first morning there he was unsure of what it was going to be like, if it would’ve been best for him to stay in his room so as not to disturb you, but it and the following couple mornings were much more pleasant than he thought they would be:

You would walk out of your room in a silky robe, wearing fuzzy heeled slippers that would clack across the marble floor as you walked.

“Good morning, Mr. Djarin,” you would say happily when you saw him sitting there on the couch looking like he was waiting for you to yell at him, walking over to the balcony to open the door.

Then you would put on a pot of coffee to percolate and call up a chef to make breakfast.

Each morning had been similar these past few days, and the more you treated Din with kindness, the more that loneliness showed itself and the more he enjoyed being near you.

Perhaps more than he should have enjoyed being near you.

You were the only person to ever call him Mr. Djarin; he was referred to as anything from Din to ‘monster’ or ‘crook’, but anytime you asked him something or needed his attention, it was always the same name.

Mr. Djarin.

There was something about it that made him embarrassed each time you said it, but embarrassed in a good way.

He’d started to watch you when you would sweep out of your bedroom each morning in another color of those silky robes you seemed to own plenty of, and his mind would wander and he would think about touching it, to see just how silken it was.

And he would quickly berate himself for thinking of that even though he would only do it the next morning.

This morning, a few days into his stay, the two of you were sitting at the table together with waffles made by your chef who left to allow you the privacy to eat.

Din found it awkward to eat in front of others since he was used to being all by himself, dining by himself, but you didn’t gawk at him like others would. It made him at ease enough to eat his meals slowly.

He did stare a little, though, admiring the way your fingers would grip your coffee cup as you took sips of it.

There was no ring on the hand holding your coffee or the one holding the newspaper, which meant you and Blue were only going steady, and he wasn’t sure why that would even matter to him.

“Mr. Djarin?”

He quickly averted his gaze and moved to grab his cup of coffee, nearly knocking it over before he brought it to his lips to take a sip. “Mm.”

“Why is everyone so afraid of you?” Your question made him pause and look up to find you staring at him with genuine bemusement, your head tilted.

“I kill people,” he answered bluntly.

“That’s what Blue said. He said I shouldn’t trust you because you’ve killed people, but I was under the impression you only killed those who did wrong. Like how you’re protecting me from a man who wants to do me harm.”

“They are mostly people who do wrong, but...people like to make assumptions.”

You nodded slowly, looking down at your plate of food before glancing back up at him almost shyly. “I think you’re swell.”

Din stared at you for a moment, but you’d gone back to eating and so he did as well, finding his heart seemed to skip a beat at you complimenting him.

He continued to stare at the way your fingers gripped your coffee cup.

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

“Mr. Djarin?”

Din walked inside from where he’d been watching the city on the balcony, finding that the book you’d been reading as you sat on the couch was now in your lap. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, yes, I was just wondering if you wanted to play gin with me.”

“—do you mean drink?”

You let out a beautiful laugh as you shook your head and stood up, walking to open up a drawer in a cabinet.

“It’s a card game.” You produced a deck of cards, walking over to kneel by the coffee table where you set the cards down and one.

“I’ve never played,” Din admitted as he slowly joined you to kneel on the other side of the table.

“It’s easy, here, let me explain it…”

Din picked a card as you told him to, listening attentively as you told him the rules, nodding along when you told him he would deal since he’d chosen the higher card, then letting you know he was pretty sure he understood as the two of you started to play.

You won the first three rounds, but Din soon got the hang of it and you were soon tied.

He shook his head at the way you were looking over your cards with a raised eyebrow, as if you’d bet something incredibly valuable.

“It’s come down to this hand, Mr. Djarin.”

“It has.”

The two of you discarded and picked new cards until Din smirked to himself and said, “Gin,” before showing you his cards.

You looked over his matches and then laid out your own cards where you didn’t have a match at all, leaning back against the couch behind you. “I suppose I should accept my defeat with grace...if only because this table is too heavy to flip over in anger.”

Din rolled his eyes at your fake dramatics, raising an eyebrow when you leaned forward and stared right at him.

“You have the loveliest smile I think I’ve ever seen.”

He hadn’t even realized he was smiling until you mentioned it and he quickly pressed his lips together, looking away awkwardly.

“Thank you.”

The phone buzzed before either of you could think too much about it and you moved to your feet, walking over to take the cup off the hook. You held the cup to your ear and lifted the microphone off the table so you wouldn’t need to bend over. “Hello? Hello, baby!”

It didn’t take a genius to figure out it was Blue on the other end of the line and Din didn’t really need to hear you giggling to whatever the other man was saying, so he used the coffee table to push himself to his feet.

He nodded to you as he walked by towards the guest bedroom. “It’s late, I should go to bed. Wake me if you need anything.”

Your brow furrowed and you frowned a little, but you quickly offered him a smile as you nodded your understanding. “That was just Mr. Djarin letting me know he was going to bed...yes, we were playing gin...no...he...Blue! Don’t be so crass.”

Din continued on towards the bedroom as you turned away, shutting the door behind him and leaning back against it for a moment.

Just a simple card game with you had been the most fun he’d had...well, ever. And maybe he’d been smiling at your acting because he’d found it a little cute.

Some small, lonely part of him didn’t want to ever confront the man who was harassing you so he could stay, but he knew his purpose here was to protect you and rid you of the madman.

Your kindness didn’t mean you wanted him to stick around anyway; he was meant to be alone and you probably just pitied him for it.