#also if i see anyone say they are brothers ill skin you alive

[tabbyrocks]

Tetsutetsu is the type of guy to be like "what no I'm not jealous of Bakugo because he's closer to Kiri then I am." but then be very jealous

[moonlarked]

death, she is cunning and clever as hell (and she’ll eat you alive)

in which: tam deals with the fallout of a choice.

Tam didn’t know how long he was supposed to sit here.

Wraith had walked him in, led him to the bench he was sitting on, and told him it would just be a few minutes. “We just need to figure everything out” and “we need to let everyone recover” and “we’ll be with you shortly.”

Tam didn’t know how long a few minutes was in the Collective’s eyes.

All he knew was that he hated this room.

He hated being alone, more accurately. He hated not having anyone to bounce off of. He’d always had someone. First it had been Linh, his sister, the only person he’d ever truly trusted for the vast majority of his life. Then he’d somehow fallen into Sophie Foster’s dysfunctional group of outcasts and mentally ill teenagers trying to save the world. He’d been in on all their meetings, adding a dry piece of commentary or a pragmatic piece of advice, and over time he found himself genuinely caring about these people. He found himself a family.

He didn’t know if he even had friends now.

He remembered Linh’s tight-lipped frown and shell-shocked eyes. Rayni’s slitted gaze, confused tears wetting her cheekbones. Keefe’s collapse to the ground.

Sure, she had been a villain. But she had also been a living, breathing person.

Nobody in their group had premediated, planned, schemed, with the intent to kill a living person.

Nobody until now.

Why had he done it? The answer that came to his head first: he was tired. He was tired of Linh’s retreat into a stiffer, calculating version of her old self. He was tired of Sophie running herself ragged every day, manipulated by people who said they were trying to help her. He was tired of Fitz and Biana constantly grieving over a brother that hadn’t even loved them in the first place. He was tired of innocents getting dragged into this twisted plot.

But another part of him, maybe a more honest part, told him he did it because he was angry and scared.

He was angry at the pain inflicted on him by Gisela.

He was scared of what might happen to his sister. And by proxy, what might happen to him, because he couldn’t live without his sister.

So, honestly?

It was because he was selfish.

He really hadn’t changed since Exillium.

A light knock at the door sounded and before Tam could answer, it cracked open and Sophie’s head poked into the room.

She looked awful. Her dark circles, which were always rough, looked like they had been pummeled and bruised for hours. Her olive skin was drenched in sweat. The dark roots of her dyed blond hair even seemed more pronounced.

She opened her mouth, then closed it, choosing to simply stand there like a gawking observer.

If it were any other time, Tam would make a dry comment about her lack of words. But he couldn’t do that now - he wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to do that again. Besides, Sophie would see right through him. His mask of aloofness was pretty much shattered.

Instead of saying anything, she walked over and sat on the bench next to him.

“Everyone’s fine,” she assured him. “Linh’s good. She seemed to recover quickly.”

Tam didn’t know if the desperation had shown on his face that much or if she simply knew him that well by now, but either way he was grateful. “Rayni?”

“Livvy’s treating her right now. I think she’s in shock or something.”

“…Keefe?”

Sophie’s silence was enough of an answer, and Tam slumped forward, burying his face in his hand and trying to stop the cowardly tears from appearing. He couldn’t cry. Not now.

A soft hand was laid on his shoulder, and he looked up to see Sophie with an impossibly sympathetic look in her brown eyes.

And Tam broke.

The tears weren’t soft. They were angry and jagged and loud.

Sophie wrapped her arm around him and allowed him to stain her tunic, gently rubbing her hand along his shoulder and neck.

He sniffed and looked up at her. “Why are you comforting me?”

She sighed. “Tam, how often have I cried? How often have I fallen apart? How often have I been held in this exact same way?”

“This is..”

“Exactly the same,” she interrupted. “And I’m going to help you through this. Because that’s what we do. We help each other.”

We.

There was still a we.

Sophie gripped his hand, keeping the other wrapped around his shoulders.

Tam knew this wasn’t the end of his trouble. Soon, he would be confronted by the Collective, and then maybe the Council, and then he would have to somehow talk to his friends. He wasn’t going back to any semblance of normal after this.

But for now, he let her stay.

[impishtubist]

mating woes

Confession: I love omegaverse and simultaneously have absolutely no idea how the omegaverse actually works. So I’m just making shit up here. Content warning for, well, basically everything that omegaverse entails.

----

Harry catches a strange, sweet-sour scent as he hugs his brother. Pulling back, he holds Teddy by the shoulders, frowning at him. 

“What?” Teddy asks, shifting uncomfortably.

“You smell weird.” 

“Rude,” Teddy mutters, pulling out of Harry’s grip and giving Ginny a hug. “Hiya, Gin.”

“Hi, Teddy. You smell lovely as ever.”

“Thank you. You should teach your husband some manners, you know.”

“Believe me, I’ve tried.”

But Harry knows that something isn’t right, and he also knows that Ginny wouldn’t be able to pick up on it, being a beta. “Teddy, what’s wrong? Are you ill?”

“I’m fine.” 

He isn’t. There’s something off about his little brother. That scent also reminds Harry of something, something he’s smelled before, but not recently. He sniffs the air again, and his brain says Ginny. But that doesn’t make any sense, why would Teddy smell like Ginny? 

It hits him like a thunderclap. Ginny hasn’t smelled that way in years, not since Lily was born. Harry’s mouth drops open. “Teddy…are you pregnant?”

“Shh!” 

Harry gapes at him. “Are you?”

Teddy grabs his arm and drags him into the kitchen, Ginny on their heels. The door swings shut behind them.

“Can you not?” Teddy hisses. “Do you have to announce it to the whole world?” 

“Who’s the other father?” Harry demands. “You didn’t tell me you were seeing anyone! And you’re definitely not mated.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Teddy says. 

Sirius is going to have a fit. “It absolutely does matter! Teddy, Dad’s gonna lose his mind.”

“No, he won’t. Listen, they’ll be here at seven, yeah? Tell them I came a bit early to see the kids, I wasn’t feeling well, and I went home. I’ll see them for dinner next Sunday, okay?”

“That doesn’t solve the problem! You’ll still be pregnant then!” Harry says. “Wait, you will, won’t you?”

“Yeah, but I’ll--I don’t know, I’ll be better at masking it or something by then!” 

“Da is an omega and a werewolf, you’ll never be able to mask anything from him.”

Teddy groans and drops into the nearest chair, burying his head in his hands.

“Teddy,” Ginny says tentatively, “how long have you known?”

“Two days.” 

“How far along are you?” Harry asks. 

“Does it matter?”

“Yeah, Ted, it kind of matters!” 

“My last heat was twelve weeks ago, happy?”

“You spent your heat with someone, he knocked you up, and didn’t even bother to mate you? And it’s been three months?” Harry runs his fingers through his hair. “Sirius is gonna skin him alive. You realize that, right?”

“Not if I don’t tell him who it is,” Teddy says sullenly.

“He will find out.” Sirius can be a bit terrifying like that, honestly. “Teddy, listen to me. It will be worse if he has to find out on his own. You need to tell us who it is.” 

“Ugh, why does Dad have to be so bloody alpha all the time?” Teddy groans. 

“It’s his biology, Ted, he can’t help it.” 

“You’re not like that.” 

“Well, I don’t have an omega child who is pregnant and unmated!” Harry says heatedly. “I’m sure I’d feel differently if I did. Who is it?”

Teddy sags in his seat. His scent has soured further; now he’s clearly distressed. “You’re going to hate me.” 

Harry sighs. “You’re my little brother. I could never hate you.” 

“It’s Cedric.”

“Cedric,” Harry repeats. “Cedric Diggory?”

“Yeah.”

“Teddy, he’s twenty years older than you!” And, frankly, Cedric should know better. Spending a heat with an unmated omega, what was he thinking? Unmated sex was one thing, everyone did that before they settled down, but unmated heats were quite another. Not to mention the unmated omega son of Lord Sirius Black. 

“And he’s your ex.”

Harry waves that away. “We dated when we were kids, I don’t care about that. Do you like him?”

“I love him.”

“Then the best thing you can do for him is go Floo him, right now, tell him about the baby, and then tell him he has fifteen minutes to get his arse over here and present himself to our parents,” Harry says. “And then maybe, just maybe, Sirius won’t murder him on the spot.” 

“Go on, Teddy,” Ginny says. “Use the Floo in Harry’s office.” 

Seven minutes later, Teddy comes back into the kitchen with Cedric Diggory, who is wearing what looks like his most expensive set of dress robes and is white as a sheet.

“Hi, Cedric.” Harry offers his hand and what he hopes is a comforting smile, though it feels like a grimace. “Congratulations. And, er, my condolences.” 

Cedric swallows. “How bad is it going to be?”

“Play your cards right, and he might not kill you.”

“Harry,” Ginny admonishes. She goes over to Cedric and lays a hand on his arm. “It’s going to be fine.”

Cedric relaxes slightly. Ginny has always been a much better liar than Harry.

The doorbell chimes--Sirius and Remus must have taken the bike tonight--and everyone tenses. Teddy gives Cedric a quick hug, pressing his face into the side of Cedric’s neck and breathing deeply--scenting him for comfort. Well, well, Harry thinks. Maybe his baby brother has fallen in love after all. 

“Where are my favorite grandkids?” Sirius’s voice booms through the house, and there are pounding feet on the stairs. Harry, Ginny, Teddy, and Cedric come out of the kitchen to see Sirius embracing James, AJ, and Lily. He releases the kids to Moony, and then looks up. Surprise flits across his face.

“Teddy!” he says, delighted. “I didn’t know you were joining us tonight, kiddo. And…Cedric? Is that you?”

“Lord Black,” Cedric says, inclining his head. He’s still pale, but holds on to his composure. 

“You’ve certainly grown,” Sirius says, clasping Cedric’s hand. “I didn’t realize you and Harry still kept in touch.”

“We don’t,” Harry says. “Cedric’s here because he has something to ask you.” 

Cedric hesitates. He’s trembling slightly, clearly fighting every single one of his alpha instincts. Slowly, inch by inch, he sinks to his knees, until he’s kneeling on the floor in front of Sirius, head bowed. Harry feels his eyebrows shoot up into his hairline. Simply bowing low would have been enough. For one alpha to kneel before another…that’s unheard of, and frankly something that is bound to impress Sirius. 

Sirius simply stares in shock at the alpha kneeling in front of him, but Remus goes over to Teddy. He sniffs the air, and says, “You’re pregnant.” 

“What?” Sirius’s head snaps up. “You’re what?”

“Pregnant, Dad,” Teddy says, in a small voice Harry isn’t accustomed to hearing from him. 

“It’s Cedric’s?” Remus asks, and Teddy nods. 

“I see,” Sirius says, his expression growing stony. Suddenly, the room reeks of alpha. He looks back down at Cedric. “So you’re asking for permission to mate my son? You should have thought of that before you knocked him up.”

“Yes, alpha,” Cedric says. 

Sirius circles him slowly. “How long?”

“Twelve weeks,” Teddy says weakly.

“Twelve weeks? You spent a heat with an unmated omega and he is still unmated twelve weeks later?” Sirius asks. “Were you ever intending to mate him, Diggory?”

“Yes, alpha.” 

“Dad, come on,” Teddy says. He tries to step forward, but Remus holds him back. “Are you gonna give him your blessing or not?” 

Sirius looks up. His grey eyes have turned amber, and his incisors have sharpened slightly. 

“This is the one you want?” he asks Teddy, who nods.

“Yes.” 

“When is your next rut?” Sirius asks Cedric.

“Next week, alpha.” 

“You’ll mate him then,” he says. Teddy nods vigorously, and Cedric says, “Yes, alpha.” 

“Stand up.”

Cedric quickly gets to his feet, and Teddy goes over to him, taking his hand and lacing their fingers together. 

“You have my consent,” Sirius sighs, and Teddy beams before throwing his arms around Cedric’s neck. Sirius’s gaze lands on James, AJ, and Lily, and he says sternly, “You three! You will not spend your heats or your ruts with anyone while unmated, got it? Don’t be like your uncle.” 

“Yes, Grandpa,” they chorus. Remus rolls his eyes at them over Sirius’s shoulder, and they stifle laughter. Sirius turns to his husband, and Remus takes his hand. 

“Thank you for not hexing the father of your future grandchild, Padfoot.”

“You mean like your father did to me?” Sirius huffs. 

“To be fair, love, you didn’t show him the proper respect.” 

“He wanted me to bow to him!” 

“Alphas,” Remus sighs. “You’re all alike.” 

Teddy finally disentangles himself from Cedric and goes over to his parents. Remus sweeps him into a hug. 

“I’m so happy for you, Teddy Bear,” he says. “How have you been feeling?”

“Bit sick, but it’s not too bad,” Teddy says. “Tired, mostly.”

“I’ll get you the name of the midwife I used. She was a wonderful help throughout the pregnancy,” Remus says. “You can also call me, day or night, with any questions you have.” 

Sirius steps in to also hug Teddy.

“I love you,” he says into Teddy’s bright blue curls, “even if you are a little shit.” 

“Love you, too, Dad.” Teddy steps out of his arms, wrinkling his nose. “Did you have to stink up the room with your alphaness, though? Like, geez, we get it.”

Sirius looks affronted. “I did not stink up the room!”

“You totally did.” Teddy grabs Cedric’s hand. “It reeks in here. It’s practically alpha soup, which is super gross. So, we’re gonna beg off tonight.” 

“We’ll see you both for dinner next Sunday?” Harry asks, amused, as Teddy starts to drag Cedric toward his office and the Floo.

“Properly mated!” Sirius calls after them.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll be mated and everything, don’t worry. Bye, Harry! Bye, dads!” 

“Brat,” Sirius mutters. “He gets that from you, you know.” 

“You love it,” Remus says, and Harry makes a face. 

“You two are gross.”

[bittercandysweetrain]

Tokyo revengers x reader with mental illness Draken {Pt1}

Illness - Bipolar disorder 

(warning mention of suicide, drug use) 

(y/n)'s pov - I am Bipolar I've had it for a long time now. I hate people who romanticize it like it's such a dream to have. They love the intensity of it they love the mania because they love excitement. that's why movies always have those doped up people their life like there is no tomorrow. As if it's something so simple to handle but it’s exhausting. it's tiring to be in your own skin, the best I can describe it is having a high nothing can compare to. you feel Invincible have you ever seen a picture of a club aesthetic a hazy picture or a person dancing and having fun the night will never end. you do things and say things that could be very unintentional your not thinking of the next day you make promises you can’t keep. To do things you regret fucking who you want putting yourself in danger cause it gives you a rise and your at the highest peak of everything you could ever reach. and suddenly you crash hard falling from the heavens you become this person you don't even know. smiling hurts, laughing hurts, being awake hurts. constant thoughts of how worthless I am fill my mind, I am unloved, unwanted, alone, and I deserve to sleep forever or die. seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks turn into one giant mix up that I don't keep track of. Did I sleep for two days? was I awake for four? did I shower? did I eat? am I alive? that's all I feel but amongst all that I wish people would understand It isn't a decision it's not like I wanted this, I can't just make it go away.

Author's pov - (y/n) walked next to Inui dressed nicely it had been the first time in a while that she had been out. suffering from her lows for four months now she finally started to hit her highs. "Where are you taking me Inui?" she asked "I want you to meet someone," he said "eh? why?" she asked "because he is my friend and you owe him an apology," he said. "an apology for what?" she asked clicking her arms with his "for punching him on new years eve." Inui said "New years? I didn't punch anyone the hell are you talking about I was dancing with someone had a few drinks made snow angels snowball fight and Uh?" "let me correct you before the 31st you went on a drinking binge remember you got kicked out of 2 clubs. I told you to meet me on the rooftop for the new years eve party you came high on coke yes you were dancing and it was all fun until you wanted to dance on the edge of the rooftop. Draken pulled you down twice and the second time you were mad and punched him in the face. After you made snow angels in the parking lot. tried trading your panties for mitsuya's bike which you ended up stealing. you didn't get far but yes we had a snowball fight until you threw a shoe at takemichi and bruised his eye." he said "also you got mouthy with Mikey you called him a midget" he said before showing up to the Garage.

Draken opened the door seeing Inui and (y/n) "Hell no" he said trying to close the door "wait she is here to apologize" Inui said. (y/n) crossed her arms "I never said I was" she said "(y/n)" Inui gave her a warning tone (y/n) sighed she loved inui he was her best friend and the only one who stuck around in her moments "Okay, okay." she said Draken let the two in Inui sat down on the couch while (y/n) took a look around at the photos and stuff. Draken walked over with some drinks setting them down on the table "(y/n)" Inui called over he usually acted like a older brother sometimes a father when need be. (y/n) walked over sitting next to him "well Inui tricked me to come here but I will apologize for" she dragged the word on as she looked at Inui trying to remember what she did wrong. "punching him in the face on new years eve." he said, "Punching you in the face on new years eve even though it is your fault" (y/n) said. Draken stared at her blankly. "how was it my fault? I was just trying to keep you from falling over the damn railing" Draken said sternly. "so" (y/n) said "so?" Draken asked "who cares if I would have fallen" she said. "Do you really think no one would care." Inui looked down getting up his hand and bawled into a fist. slamming his hand on the nearby wall "h-how could you say something like that I would fucking care!" he shouted, "if you died I would definitely care your my best friend!" he shouted, "we have so many memorable days spent together!" he shouted before pausing he looked at her empty eyes just she gave him a sweet smile to reassure him "your not in your highs yet are you." he asked (y/n) remained silent as she sipped her hot drink. Draken glanced at Inui he had heard many stories about (y/n) especially when it came to him dealing with her depressive episodes. "I wouldn't want you to die" Draken said as he sipped his own drink "honestly even though you punched me it was nothing really, I've been punched countless times you made that night pretty memorable." he said with a smile "Inui always talks about you and that night wasn't the first time I met you. we actually clubbed together a few times that's why I didn't want you to fall it would be really boring you remind me of someone I use to hang out with all the time. you kind of took his place and it made me really happy." draken said

(y/n)'s pov - Sometimes the haze can make your brain foggy. Like with the time jumbling all together everything around me did as well. I thought I was getting better I was looking forward to those highs. I wanted to die, I really did I was blindly following Inui cause I don't have the strength to make my own decisions. this man who I don't remember who do I feel different I feel content around you Draken who are you?

[nefio-a1t144]

Over the next few days I'm gonna do a run down of my ocs! These will be in the chronological order that I thought of them :3

First up is Hansen!

Appearance: Hansen is ftm, and so he never had super short hair but also never had super long hair, considering it was the 1800s when he was alive. More like a short wolfcut. In his infected form (ill write about my infection another time) parts of green are in his hair. His hair is a nice brown colour, not too light not too dark. He has somewhat curly hair but brushes it out so it normally looks wavy and a tad frizzy. He has brown skin, with a few rough patches on his arms and hands due to eczema. He has freckles on his cheeks and shoulders. His eyes are a Hazel brown. He normally wears a suit when he's at work, though the tie is always never done correctly and his shirt untucked, with his trousers not ironed. Despite this, he's not a messy guy. He doesn't smell bad, and actually loves taking care of his hygiene. Will freak out if he thinks he smells bad. In his infected form he is a deep black. Like black as in ⚫️ (infection can change little things about your appearance to everything.) His face is then a red smiley face, though he can change his face to other expressions, of course. He has a cyan marking on his neck.

When he was alive, he would wear polos with vest, shorts, etc.

Before I get into personality, I would like to mention hansen has psychosis, bpd, autism and C-PTSD. The reason why he has most of these? You'll find out in lore.

Personality: Hansen is an optimistic, happy 16 year old boy. He tries to find the good in anyone, and is very forgiving. He can be very timid in a situation that he sees as a threat. Pretty much everyone chimes in to help him. (Mostly..) everyone adored hansen! Though, in hansens head, he seems himself as the complete opposite to what he is. This leads to him shutting himself off from people until he feels well enough to be around people.

Sexuality: Hansen is aroace. Repulsed asexual to be exact. He feels sick by the mention of the hanky panky.

Family: Audrey Taylor (mother), Arthur Russo (biological dad), Spencer Taylor (step dad), Locus Taylor (step brother), Henry Taylor (half brother) Pesly Taylor (cat).

Nationality: Hansen is Italian. He can speak Italian fluently and prefers it over English.

Habits: Hansen has a few habits. These include cracking/messing with his fingers, running his hand through his hair, chewing his cheek or lip, etc. Pretty normal habits.

Hobbies: Hansen doesn't have many hobbies as he's mainly consumed by work. Though I would say one is doodling. There are tons of stupid cats engraved in brick walls by a stone that he found.

Extra: Hansen is allergic to eggs. Not severely but if he eats one he gets itchy. Hansen has turned down 17 people's request to date. Hansen doesn't own a car and prefers getting the bus. He helps his mom with her perfume business.

That's all, I think?? Idk. Ya.

(A/N: if you find my character/s, and if they somehow get traction, which I doubt, please ask permission to use them)

[sparkbeast20]

Solomon: Is he consider Inhuman now?

So what @simeons-hot-cocoa brought up seem to interesting on this reblog Also heads up for spoilers for S4

Now, at time I really don't see Solomon as someone who's easy to kill or can die. His the literally the definition of immortal, he can't die.

That's why I was motivated and inspired to write The only Human where Solomon is one left there when the other characters wake up from their cold snap hibernation sleep. He and MC where the only who isn't affected by the cold snap so they drew closer because of it. But as time goes by he had to watch MC grow old and die. So he return back to devildom where the other finally woke up.

Just imagine that you a immortal had to watch someone you care about die do to something that makes human, well human... dying from aging.

What Sweater brought up is interesting.

That after for so long that his been treat as someone who's truly immortal hence being treat as inhuman. For example, there are so many times that the brothers that Solomon is as bad as demon due to his power/magic and statues. Getting the reputation of demon wearing human skin. Hence the demons (When I say demons, this mostly about the all the demon characters) treat Solomon like his a demon at this point.

This actually remains me about Hidan from Naruto and how in order to defeat him. Shikamaru had to blow him up into pieces and bury him alive because his immortal. The guy survive getting his head cut off! And it explain that Hidan eventually dies from starvation and dehydration so his not technically fully immortal.

But Just think about this in Solomon's case, if anyone can get to him. If being immortal doesn't make him invincible. His not immune to pain, does he feels all injuries, hungers pains, and illness.

But because Demons are more so are long living and hard to kill beings, Solomon thinks that and/or lets the others call him "more like a demon" because of that mindset: for so long he end up tricking himself of thinking like that.

That's not until MC who is human which remains him about what's humanity again. But has something that he wish he can have again. Because what separated him from the demons, Angels and MC. Is that they can die while he can only feels pains but can't die.

Spoilers for Season 4.

Which make this more worst is the fact Simeon who turn into a human makes his more alone that ever. If you think about it Simeon and MC have something now more than ever and that's their human who can die, while he is technically human.

To answer the question: No

His not inhuman, his just alone.

[honeyabyss]

When Mc gets sick

Lucifer:

will scold the hell out of you

"didn't I tell you to take care of yourself?"

you can have only a slight cold and he will insist on you staying in bed for the rest of the week

humans are weak and die easily, and you're apparently stupid on top of that for getting sick even after his warning

will constantly sigh, scold and act like it's a huge nuisance taking care of you

says he doesn't care

actually cares a lot

keeps his brothers away from you, so you have peace and silence to recover

if your condition worsens he will grow panicked, he doesn't want to lose you!

will take you to a human world doctor so you can get the right treatment

after your recovery, he will be so paranoid and overprotective for the first few weeks, will wrap you up in blankets, constantly makes sure you drink and eat enough, will put his coat over your shoulders if he even just gets the idea you might find it cold

Mammon:

"that's your own fault!"

someone like the great Mammon would never get sick

leaves the room only to come back half an hour later panting and packed with bags full of medicine and other stuff you might need

he didn't know what you need so he got one of all

there isn't the right thing among it? oh well no worries he'll get you whatever you say

after all he cares a lot for his human, even though he denies it

he will keep you company and try to distract you from your pain through telling you about his new money making schemes, or try to get you to laugh through telling you about stories where he failed and received Lucifers punishment

he doesn't like that you  have to go through this so he tries to help you however he can

if you'll ask for some quiet time, he will struggle, it's not like he doesn't want you to have some rest to recover, it's just he is so worried and confused, he feels more at ease when you talk to him or laugh about his stories, if you answer that is prove you're still alive and breathing

once you've recovered everything goes back to normal, Mammon will be confident in his ability to take care of you...for now that is, it's probably diffrent once you're actually sick again

Leviathan:

stupid normie! An otaku like him doesn't get sick, because he never leaves his room and avoids interactions with others

he, of course, secretly cares though

"Mc? I brought you these anime that we can watch together to pass the time"

"oh and in case you want to rather read something in silence, I brought you some manga recommendations, but please don't sneeze all over them..."

does the online RAD lessons with you as he stays at home almost everyday anyway, so he can show you how they work and help you

he will awkwardly sit next to you on the bed, trying to keep a small distance between the two of you A) because he is shy and nervous and B) because he can't get sick, he would miss all his in-game raids

will ask if you want to play games as well, but soon realizes that you two won't be making much progress with your current reaction time, so he chooses an easy and fun game for you

he wouldn't admit it but he might have set the game to the easiest settings and he himself plays slower for you

he is actually kind of disappointed when you recover so quick, he will miss you now that you visit RAD again instead of doing the online lessons with him, but he is glad you're feeling better again...maybe you could stay home more often with him though?

Satan:

he will buy and read every single human medicine book so he can find the best solution to your illness

will obviously read them in your room, because he can't leave you alone in this state

makes sure to keep you warm and makes you herbal tea depending on your symptoms

will skip school in favour for your well-being, especially keeps this behaviour up when Lucifer gets mad about it

will yell at everyone who dares to try and enter your room while your still sick, how dare they disturb your rest

will get embarassed about yelling and actually being the disturbance to you himself, will apologize and leave your room to keep reading somewhere else, still checks up on you occasionally and brings you light novels to read so you don't get bored

will come in stumbling into your room with the perfect medicine to cure you, only to find that you're already feeling better

gets embarassed yet again, but says it was worth reading all these books as he can now react faster the next time you get sick

will keep a check on your health and make sure you're always taking care of yourself

Asmodeus:

keep your snotty face away from him, but also come cuddle

he is very conflicted, because getting sick is not good for his skin, but he also wants to make you feel better with his hugs

will wear a mask so he doesn't get infected that easily

Asmo doesn't know much about medicine but he knows that certain herbs are good for your health, so he'll make you a nice herbal bath to boost your healing

also will take over your skin care routine and adjust it while your sick so your skin doesn't get worse, says he will only buy a refreshing face mask, comes back with more stuff though... I mean what did you expect from him?

will stay in bed with you and constantly cuddle so you don't feel lonely

he will most definetly whine if you ask him for some space or alone time, but does comply...fo at most half an hour, look this is hard on him too! His darling is sick and he can't do anything but be a moral support for you

if you thought he stops to cling to you once you've recovered, then you're mistaken, he will give you so many kisses and hugs having missed being able to do that

Beelzebub:

"Will food make you feel better?"

"You don't feel like eating?"

the poor boy is so confused, you're going to die if you don't eat! He will ask Satan what humans need when they're sick

will make yoou the perfect meal based on your symptoms, he'll even hold back on eating from it

he has a huge smile on his face while he watches you eat what he prepared, he is so proud that you like what he made you

eat as much as you can, Beel will eat everything you can't, all this boy wants for you to eat at least a bit so you have enough strength to recover

you get cold? cuddle time!

there is no way Beel will leave your side for as long as you're sick, he'll hold you close and share all his warmth and food with you

is so happy when you're better again. Will celebrate it with inviting you to a restaurant

Belphegor:

being sick is like being sleepy right?

he will just go back to sleep next to you as if nothing happend

wakes up because of your coughs and pretends to be annoyed, but is actually worried

will leave the comfort of the bed to get you some medicine, before wrapping you up into a blanket burrito and cuddling into you

don't expect to be getting up any time soon, he wants to sleep...you better not have to go to the bathroom

sleeping is best medicine but Belphie takes this a bit to literally, you two will almost only sleep

once you're better he will still want to sleep using you as a pillow, good luck getting out of that situation

Diavolo:

"Are you dying Mc?"

"Barbatos turn back the time before Mc got sick! -Wait you're going to be okay?"

Don't scare him like that! He is always ready to save you from death!

He will let you live at the castle for the time being and appoints the best doctor to take care of you, because he still isn't completly convinced you're going to make it

Does his work in your room, so he can keep a check on you

will not do much work much to Barbatos dismay, Dia is just so worried about you and will constantly ask if you need anything

his breaks consist of hugging you gently and drinking some tea with you

he will literally cry and almost crush you in his hug, when you're finally healthy again. This man was so anxious about losing you, even thugh he could've commanded Barb to just turn back time

Barbatos:

*smiles*

he knew you were going to get sick, so he's prepared

knocks on your door in the house of lamentation, before you're even able to tell anyone that you're sick

made himself a very strict schedule for everything so he can help you and still attend to his duties as a butler

gives the brothers various tasks so they can indivdually take care of you in the time he isn't able to be there for you

he will get back to you in the evening after having finished all his work for the day

will make you a light dinner and sit next to your bed

stays with you until you fall asleep stroking you hair and holding one of your hands, when you wake up the next morning Barb await you with a small breakfast, if he stayed over night or left and came back in the morning will stay a secret of his

is relieved and at the same time sad when you've recovered, will miss coming over and seeing you, maybe you can return the favor and visit him at the castle sometimes...

Solomon:

is a human so he knows what to do...

but magic is quicker!

he tries to heal you with a spell, but he just end up making it worse

"Oh no Mc I'm so sorry! Let me make it up by taking care of you!"

undefined matter soup a la Solomon, "eat this", he said, "You'll feel better", he said ...you don't feel better...

the brothers will get so angry and throw him out of the house, he is only allowed to come back once you've recovered, actually scratch that he's not setting foot anywhere near you again if it were for the demons

but Solomon finds his way into your room through your window...will stay over the night, cuddling you and constantly apologizing

will laugh about the whole ordeal once you've recovered

Simeon:

he is so calm, like yeah? Humans get sick, but they recover soon if taking care of correctly

Simeon is just the best!

he knows the right food to make for you, will give you the best medicine and make sure you're taking it at the right time

will make sure you're always comfortable

bored?  "let me get you a book!"

tired?  "let me fluff your pillow so you can sleep better!"

he will sit next to you the whole time looking so calm and confident

he will pray for you to get better quick so you don't have to suffer too long

promises you to take care of you again if you get sick in the future, this man just wants to be there for you

Luke:

"Are you dying Mc?" Version 2.0

no seriously are you? Will you become an  angel? We can live together in the celestial realm and bake desserts for Micheal!

Mc why are you so angry? No you misunderstood I don't actually want you to die!

Is so sorry he couldn't protect you from getting sick, he will feel so helpless

Simeon and you will cheer him up and tell him there wasn't anything he could have done to prevent it

Luke will bake you light desserts so you can eat some sweets while recovering

will visit you daily with Simeon after school and tell you about the day

crushes you in a big hug once you're healthy again

[trailshome]

[TUG] with child mc and the ovara triplet's youngest brother(which makes him mc's uncle i guess, despite him also being a kid if i remember it right)? I know this is a bit unusual but i wan't to see an interaction between him and child mc since i don't think anyone ever request this before

//I haven't named him yet so for now we'll call him Elen <3

[TUG] - sender tugs receiver’s hand in an attempt to get them to follow + Elen Ovara and Child!MC

He’s a slight boy, far smaller than he should be, skin an ashen shade of brown that highlights an odd blue sheen in the right light. He’s unfriendly, or perhaps shy, unwilling to speak with you but you catch the various, curious glances he sends your way. “My nibbling...?” He asks, voice scratchy. Hollond nods, slinging a lock of pale blonde hair over their shoulder.

“Your nibbling. You know,” They say looking between yourself and their brother, “You’re both fairly close in age, maybe you two could be friends? Why don’t you show mc the garden. They like... nature.” You can see the way your baba grimaces, clearing remembering the toad you brought to the house earlier that week. Elen doesn’t respond, attention now fully and undividedly upon you.

“Are you sure?”

“Quite. Now off you go -- try not to destroy Mytessa’s posies, okay?”

The boy steps closer to you, hesitating and then offering you a vague, shy smile. He’s only a little bit older than you, but he looks as if he’s witnessed one thousand lifetimes. When you don’t move, shifting only slightly behind hollond, he seems to build up the courage to reach out and take your hand. It’s clammy and cold, wet with sweat, with nails untrimmed but he looks a little eager now. not so unsure, and not so unfriendly. He looks relieved as you allow him to lead you away after a few insistent tugs to your hand.

You don’t look back at your baba who has fallen into conversation with Elen’s father, Ortayn, your step-grandfather.

The garden is a tangle of foreign flora, all alive and well, seemingly more sentient than any you had seen before. They wave to elen as he passes, and, by proxy, you. The boy has begun to chatter, telling you about the moths and beetles that have made their home within the garden -- telling you how he’d love to show you his favorite. He’s never been able to show anyone his favorite before, but now he has you, his nibbling.

You suddenly recall what hollond had told you prior to this meeting. “He’s a lonely boy, never well enough to make friends. Too meek for conversation, too frail to play, prefers the company of plants and beetles. I’ve been told he appears unfriendly, but i think he’s just too ill to look otherwise.”

You understand. You’re felt lonely before. You let your hand squeeze Elen’s, gently so as to not crush his fragile fingers. He casts you a glance, a sharp, shy smile, and then pulls you down to crouch before a plant.

You spend the next hour with one another, happily sharing what you know about bugs and plants, and leave the ovara manor feeling light and fluttery. You’re glad that elen is your uncle and best friend.

[ldss-interactive]

At Alter’s End: A CYOA Novel

Overview:

Trentworth, Maine. A town of ten thousand southeast of Ellsworth and North of Bayside. Its only bragging point since its conception in 1867 was being a shoreline city and cheaper than any of the other big tourist towns. Nothing ever happened here, besides the occasional drowning or fishing trip accident, until the killings started. They lasted five years in total and 48 people were lost to the killer’s sick desires. Robert Hall terrorized this small town, slipping under the radar by focusing on those considered “undesirable”; sex workers, orphans, drug addicts, and the like. Now ten years later, ten years after the killer has been put behind bars, murders have begun again. A copycat killer has come to Trentworth. And they seem to be targeting the ones left behind, still trying to pick up the shattered pieces of their lives…

You take the role of a highschool senior; your parents having died in a home fire shortly before the killer was put behind bars and now under the care of your workaholic aunt. Make allies of your classmates or attempt to go it alone, clear your parents’ name from their believed involvement with the killer or fight to put the past behind you, deal with the skeletons in your closet and mind or bury them deeper... Oh, and make sure your history project is turned in on time. With two young siblings depending on you and a whole host of problems a highschool student should never have to deal with, can you survive this nightmare made real?

Trigger Warnings: This game will go into very heavy topics including the following; murder, death, various mental health issues (such as PTSD, depression, and anxiety), abandonment, gambling, various types of drug addiction, self harm mentions (not happening to the MC or shown in graphic detail), suicide, sex work, child abuse (mental, emotional, and physical), and dangerous situations. This is a murder mystery/thriller, it is NOT intended for audiences below 18.

Hello! Thank you for showing interest in At Alter’s End. This is a Choose Your Own Adventure style novel in the Thriller and Murder Mystery genres. It would also fit nicely in the Drama genre as well, but Drama is not the focus. This will be a rather lengthy project, with fifteen chapters plus a prologue and epilogue planned.

You take on the role of a senior at Trentworth High. Join an after-school activity, take care of your younger siblings, prepare for finals, get a part time job, find a date to homecoming, and survive your worst nightmare come to life. The copycat killer is targeting the students of your school and no one is safe. With the police dragging their feet, no help coming any time soon from any higher up law enforcement, and the locals refusing to acknowledge the possibility of a copycat killer, it’s up to you and your classmates to find the person responsible...before it’s too late.

- You can play as female, male, nonbinary, or trans!

- You can be straight, gay, or bisexual!

- A highly customizable MC including hair color, eye color, skin color, hair length, height, and personality and interests!

- The ability to choose which mental illness the MC suffers from due to the trauma of their past from the following:

Anxiety, Depression, or PTSD.

- The MC is deaf in their right ear ear due to the way in which their parents died; this is not something that can be changed.

- Choose from 7 different official after-school activities! Trentworth Volunteers, Up and Coming Artists, National Debate Society, National Honors Society, Co-Ed Varsity Basketball, Creative Writing, and Trentworth Gardeners!

- Bond with your classmates, explore your town, and help raise your younger siblings!

- Rescue your parents’ bakery from corporate clutches or let it go!

- Find the killer, stop the murders, and put a stop to the rumors that have plagued your every step for 10 years!

Vanya: Oldest adoptive twin sibling to MC’s adoptive siblings, 6 years younger than MC. Strong-headed, intelligent, and always getting into trouble. She looks after her brother and MC in the ways she can.

Ajay: Youngest adoptive twin sibling to MC’s adoptive sibling, 6 years younger than MC. Nearly completely blind since birth, he enjoys painting and other artistic endeavors. Obedient yet opinionated.

Aunt Emma: The workaholic aunt that takes custody of MC and their younger siblings after the death of their parents. Well meaning but absent most of the time on business trips or at the office.

Kwan Hall: An adoptive relative to Robert Hall; aloof, intelligent, and completely ostracized by Trentworth as a whole. When the killings start again the town’s attention is immediately turned on Kwan. He’s the first to begin investigating the killings when the police prove their incompetence. He is of Korean descent, standing at 5’6” with dark hair and dark eyes. His most notable feature is the long scar that stretches from his forehead’s hairline, down his left temple, and ends just below his jawline and the constant disinterest on his face. He is asexual in that he doesn’t experience sexual attraction at all. He is also bisexual.

Alessia D’Agostina: Trentworth High’s school president. She’s clawed her way tooth and nail up to earn the respect of both the school faculty and her fellow classmates; she’s strong-willed, dependable, and always looks at things through a logical lens. When she sees her classmates dying, she takes it upon herself to try and stop this once and for all. With dark skin, deep brown eyes, long braided hair, and standing at 5’8” her confidence and sense of self always make sure she stands out from the crowd. Alessia is bisexual.

Georgiy Kuzmin: Twin brother to Anastasiya Kuzmin; he is, in the kindest way possible, not the brightest bulb in the box. Yet he always means well and is more than willing to offer a helping hand. As the co-captain of the basketball team, captain of the baseball team, and the star of the swim team, Georgiy is one of the most popular and well beloved students at Trentworth High. When he realizes his friends are in danger, he willingly throws himself into the investigation to do all he can to help. With fair skin, dirty blond hair, bubbly green eyes, and standing at 6’1” he cuts an approachable figure to anyone who knows him. Georgiy is gay.

Anastasiya Kuzmin: Twin sister to Georgiy Kuzmin: she and her brother are alike in so many ways apart from just appearance. Anastasiya, who goes by Ana more often than not, is head of the Co-Ed Varsity Basketball team, the Girls’ softball team, and the Tennis team. Just as popular and loved as her brother, Ana may not be the smartest but she makes up for it with passion and dedication. Like her brother, she has fairer skin, dirty blond hair, and bright green eyes. Also like her brother, she felt she couldn’t just sit around while her friends were put in danger and agreed to join the investigation. Ana is gay and demiromantic, meaning she only gains feelings for someone after having a strong relationship with them.

Lillian Triano: A quiet, withdrawn girl who mainly keeps to herself. Due to the fact that Trentworth High demands for every senior to be apart of an elective, she is mainly seen in afterschool reading club run by Ms. Habeeb. She’s MC’s closest friend, having been one of the only people who didn’t believe the rumors that MC’s parents were assisting Robert Hall in his murders. She has an olive complexion, brown eyes, a heavy dose of freckles, and stands at 5’1”. Lillian is gay.

Jasmine Abernathy: Jasmine is Trentworth High’s self proclaimed “Best news source!” After the school newspaper was disbanded, Jasmine took it upon herself to keep freedom of the press alive. She’s fierce in her pursuit of the truth and never one to back down from a fight, though her rash attitude can get her into some sticky situations on occasion. With vibrant red hair, dark brown eyes, and standing at 5’3” she puts the term “fire” in Fire Signs. (She’s an Aries in astrology!) When the copycat killings began, it was no surprise when she took the case head on. Jasmine is bisexual.

Asa San Nicholas: Asa is the oldest of a set of triplets; they’re the type to march to the beat of their own drum, often not listening to what anyone has to say about themselves or their interests. Asa is a firm believer in the paranormal and it isn’t uncommon to find them indulging in their interest in various ways. “The spirits are distrubed. These deaths aren’t meant to happen.” Asa’s reason for getting involved seems to tie directly back to their “connection” with the spirits of the town. Asa has black hair, most often tied in a ponytail, hazel eyes, and an olive skin tone. At 6’4” they tower over most everyone...something they seem to enjoy a great deal. Asa doesn’t see gender and is interested in people regardless of how they present.

Leo San Nicholas: The middle of the triplets. They are genderfluid, okay with any pronouns. Leo is, for lack of a better word, eccentric. A bit of an adrenaline junkie, you can often find them cliff diving or giving their siblings heart attacks by playing russian roulette with a chocolate gun. To them, it isn’t fun if there isn’t a little danger involved; naturally, an investigation into a serial killer scratches that itch quite nicely. Their black hair is clipped short, multiple piercings visible on each ear, and their heterochromatic hazel and green eyes are often stated to stare through a person. Although Leo is genderfluid, they are only interested in people who present as female.

The demo is upcoming! When it is available I will make a post announcing it! I will also update this post with the link! This game is written in choicescript; the demo will be published on Dashingdon and the final game will be published for free on itch.io. I am open for questions regarding this game/novel and once the demo is published I will also be publishing a link to my Ko-fi! Until then, please don’t hesitate to ask if you have any questions!

[windless-hurricane]

Sparks

Chapter Four: A World Where We Can Grow Old

A Reiner x Reader x (Eventual) Jean Fanfic

• ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ •

SUMMARY: After the fall of Shiganshina, you joined the military along with your brother. You had hoped to bring peace to the world by doing so, but the world was a cruel place. You seemed to lose more than you gained, but there was always someone - someone who made losing just a bit…easier. You hoped you could keep them forever, but was there a guarantee in this world?

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Here’s the fourth chapter! While things are a bit slow right now, the story’s really going to pick up after this chapter!

WARNINGS (for entire series): Language, explicit violence, talks of death, suicide, trauma, and mental illness, graphic scenes involving blood and/or death, and sexuality.

WORD COUNT: 2.2k

TAGLIST: @lovethemilkteasis @grayxblaze @theyoungblood13 @flowersgirl02 @noodlenerd101 @hanabihwa @drowned-pathetic-rat @bestgirlb @bleepop @miinnttyy @1-800-thanos @lovelime @usernamehere91

SPARKS MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

• ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ •

• ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ •

You and your brother stood beside each other as a stream of smoke poured into the sky. You wondered where it came from, how it got there, why it was there, and your questions were answered once a colossal, red hand slung itself over the wall and grabbed onto it.

You flinched uneasily as your eyes widened in fear.

What’s happening? What’s going on? What is that? Is that… Is that a-

Then, a large, skinless face peeked over, its teeth clenching and its gaze terrifying.

It was. It was a Titan, but how...how could it be that big? It was impossible.

Your body trembled as you reached for Viktor's hand. He met you in the middle, gripping your hand back tightly. You could feel the heat and sweat from his skin, showing just how mortified he was.

“V-Vik-tor, I…” you stuttered, but you couldn’t form a coherent sentence. Your mind was going wild and you could feel your heart clenching in your chest.

What-what do we do? Where’s the Garrison Regiment? Where’s Jannick? Where’s dad?

Anybody?

Then, a sudden force shoved you to the ground as the Titan kicked through the wall, sending chunks of it flying.

People screamed, pushed past each other, and ran for whatever time was left of their lives. However, you couldn’t. You were frozen.

Everything was a blur and your ears filled with static.

What should I do?

However, you didn’t have time to ponder that question as a boulder headed straight for you.

This is it. I’m gonna die.

“(Y/N)! Move! (Y/N)!”

__________________________________________

“(Y/N)!”

You gasped yourself awake, sitting up in a panic.

You were panting heavily with sweat dripping down your forehead. You barely managed to wipe it away with your shaky hand. Matter of fact, your whole body was shaking.

“Are you okay,” Sasha asked, gazing at you with worried eyes. Admittedly, no. Your heart was still beating out of its chest and you felt your head begin to pound. However, you couldn’t dwell on something that has already happened. It’s over.

“I’m fine,” you responded, but the hoarseness of your voice didn’t match your words.

“Are you sure,” she pushed. “Because you don’t look like it.” She gestured to your hand and you were surprised to see that you had been clenching your blanket so tightly that the whites of your knuckles were showing. You hadn’t even realized that you were gripping it.

You let go, your knuckle cracking in the process.

“Yeah,” you nodded and you were about to relax until a new form of panic arose within you. “Wait, Sasha. Are we late?”

“Uh, well…” she trailed off. “We’re about to be.” Your eyes widened as you immediately threw yourself off the bed.

“You should’ve said that to begin with,” you exclaimed, shuffling around for your uniform. “We can’t be late for combat training!”

__________________________________________

You and Sasha made a run for the training grounds and were lucky to see that the rest of the cadets were still waiting for Shadis’s instruction.

You sighed a breath of relief as you lined up beside her, not noticing Reiner standing on the other side of you.

He unconsciously looked you over and noticed your disheveled appearance. You had a bad case of bed hair and a few buckles of your uniform had come undone. He also noticed the sheen of sweat covering your face and how you were breathing a little heavier than normal. Either you just woke up late or something else had happened. He wasn’t sure which.

As Shadis made his way up to the speaking platform, all side conversations came to a halt and he turned to face you all with a hard gaze.

“Alright, maggots,” he shouted, making your ears ring. “Today, we are engaging in combat training! While some of you may think this is unnecessary as you obviously can’t use hand-to-hand combat against a Titan...” You and a few cadets snickered. “Shut up!”

You smirked as he continued on. “As I was saying, if you’re lucky enough to make it into the Top 10 and join the Military Police, you won’t be dealing with Titans. You’ll be dealing with people, criminals, thugs. Likewise with the Garrison Regiment. Therefore, it is important to know basic fighting skills and how to defend yourself in any situation… Do your meager minds understand?!”

“Yes, sir,” you all replied in unison.

“Good, now listen for your partners!”

“Sir, if I may ask, why can’t we choose our own partners,” you asked suddenly, causing your peers to gape at you like they did at orientation. However, you were unfazed, even after Shadis shot you the same death glare as before.

“No, you may not ask, Bauer,” Shadis growled and you attempted to suppress your smile. “Now, run laps until I’ve finished. Afterwards, get your ass handed to you by Braun.”

“Yes, sir,” you saluted, shooting a glance at Reiner as he smirked at you. “If he can even beat me,” you countered, speaking so quietly that only Reiner could hear you.

As you jogged past him toward the dirt track, he watched you with amusement.

You certainly weren’t like the other girls in the Training Corps. You somehow managed to be sweet, fiery, and so sure of yourself all at once. You always spoke your mind and were seemingly fearless, choosing to mess with the scariest person there without a care in the world. Finally, you were awfully kind, taking care of your brother whenever you could and indulging in his own mischievousness, even if it meant the both of you potentially getting trouble. He even saw you do the same with Sasha and Eren.

You truly were something else.

He grinned faintly as he found you smirking back at him.

“We’ll see about that, hotshot,” he murmured.

__________________________________________

Once Shadis had finished announcing everyone’s partners, you jogged over to Reiner, panting slightly.

He raised his eyebrows at you as you came to a stop a few feet in front of him.

“How was the jog,” he teased and you scoffed in response.

“Nothing compared to the swimming I had to endure on the first day,” you admitted, clearing your throat.

“Why do you always annoy him when you know full well what he’s going to do?” The question would have sounded condescending coming from anyone else, but you could tell he was more amused than anything.

“I don’t like him,” you stated bluntly. “And…” your eyes began to soften. “I think we ought to have some fun while we’re here.”

“Huh,” he breathed, taken aback by your answer.

Fun? In times like these, he thought to himself.

“I know what you’re thinking,” you chuckled. “Fun? In times like these? I know. The world is so dark these days, but I think we need to be reminded that we’re still alive. We need to laugh, smile, feel happiness. Most importantly, be human and how could we do that if we’re scared or in grief all the time? I still don’t like him, but if you all are entertained along the way, fine by me.”

He gazed at you admirably, unsure of how to process your words. He felt...conflicted more than anything.

“You really are one of a kind, (Y/N),” he commented, his voice coming out smoother than how he felt on the inside.

Your cheeks blushed faintly as you grinned.

“If I didn’t know any better, Reiner, I’d say you were flirting with me rather than trying to fight me,” you cooed and he let out a chuckle through his nose.

“And what if I was,” he suggested with a glint in his eyes.

“I'd still say to fight me.”

You raised your arms in a fighting stance and he quirked his eyebrow at you.

“I haven’t seen a stance like that before,” he observed, putting his own arms up. “Where’d you learn it?”

“Enough talking!”

You charged at Reiner with a plan already in mind.

I’ll go for a punch towards his face. Once he decides to either block it or pull away from it, I’ll sweep his legs right from underneath him.

You went for your punch, but he unexpectedly didn’t do either. He instead grabbed your fist tightly, not allowing you to pull away, and twisted your arm behind your back. He pulled you against him and your face heated up as his chest pressed into you.

“I don’t think you expected that, (Y/N),” he whispered, his breath fanning your cheek. “I thought I wasn’t going to be able to beat you.” You honestly thought so too, but you were overconfident. It made sense that he was able to stop you. He was confident too, but just the right amount. He also knew how to fight.

Although your arm was starting to hurt from his grip, you still smirked with excitement.

“The fight doesn’t end until one of us is pinned down,” you stated, stomping down on his foot.

He groaned as he released his hold on you and you threw your head back, coming into contact with his chin. As a result, he lost his footing and you took the opportunity to crouch down and swipe your leg underneath his. He fell to the ground and you threw yourself on top of him. You bent your right leg at the knee and dug it into his thigh, holding his other leg down in the process. You used your left foot to keep one of his arms down. Then, you pinned his wrist with one of your hands and used the other to keep his head against the ground. You smiled, letting out a quick exhale.

“I pinned you.”

“Let’s make a deal,” and you gaped down at him in surprise. Why did he look and sound so nonchalant despite his position?

“What?”

“Whoever’s pinned down last has to do something for the other,” he explained.

“If you can even-“ Before you could finish, he propped his knee up from under you and your foot slid off his wrist. He gripped you from your collar and threw you over, causing you to land on the opposite side of his head. You went to do a kip up, but he grabbed you by the shoulder of your jacket and dragged you until you were within straddling range. He got on top of you as he smiled faintly.

“That’s what we have to find out.”

After that, you both spent the next half hour pinning each other down until Shadis told everyone to stop.

You gasped for air as you pinned Reiner’s wrists above his head and used your knees to keep his legs in place. He was breathing heavily as well, his stomach on the ground and his cheek pushing against the dirt.

“I-I win,” you announced, tightening your hold on him as a reminder.

“I can see that,” he strained, barely looking at you from the corner of his eye. “You win.”

You sighed in satisfaction and let him go, finally standing up. You wiped excess sweat and dirt off your forehead, watching as he turned over and sat up with a grunt.

“You’re an impressive fighter, (Y/N),” he complimented. “I think you’re as good as Annie.”

“Well, you’re not too bad yourself,” you admitted. “I haven’t had a fight like that in awhile.”

“So, then,” he started. “What do you want?”

“Huh?” You blushed slightly as you scratched the back of your head. “I haven’t thought that far ahead… What did you even want?”

“I wanted you to answer a question of mine,” he revealed, a darkness creeping on his cheeks.

“Just a question,” you asked in disbelief. “All of that for a question? What is it?”

“Why'd you join the military?”

“That question again? Well, I guess I never answered you to begin with,” you remembered. “Silly, you could’ve just asked me instead of letting me beat you up.”

“I didn’t know how to bring it up again without it seeming weird,” he confessed and you shook your head.

“It wouldn’t have. I like talking to you.”

You extended your hand out to him and the moment his fingers brushed yours, you felt what could only be described as a jolt of electricity running through you and you took a step back.

You looked down at him and he stared back at you with a similar expression - utter confusion.

Did he feel that too?

“Um, sorry,” you apologized, laughing slightly. “It must’ve been static.”

“No worries,” he assured with a chuckle and you stuck your hand out once again.

He took it graciously and thanked you as you hoisted him up. You nodded, gazing at him right after.

“I joined the military because I want to live in a world where the only concern is growing old,” you finally answered. “I don’t want us to worry about walls, Titans, or whatever the hell else could be out there. I just want us to be happy and have the freedom to live our lives to the fullest... Does that...sorta answer your question?”

It did, it really did. So, why did Reiner still feel a pang in his chest? Why was he hoping for a more selfish answer? Why did he want your answer to not be as noble as the one you gave? Why did he want you to be...less human?

In the end, he knew the answers to all these questions. He didn’t want to feel guilty for what he had done and what he was going to do...but everyone was making it extremely difficult. (Y/N) especially.

As you both smiled at each other, one question plagued his mind.

Why were the Devils of Paradis…so human?

[kepnerandavery]

My favourite quotes from An Offer From a Gentleman..

1. “But she just smiled at him, a wide, radiant grin that pierced his skin and traveled straight to his soul. She put her hand in his, and it was only then that Benedict realized he’d been holding his breath.”

If this isn’t the epitome of love at first sight, I don’t know what is.

2. “I want to see you tomorrow, he said softly. I want to call on you and see where you live. I want to meet your parents and pet your damned dog, he continued, somewhat unsteadily. Do you understand what I mean?”

Can we acknowledge how Benedict knew that he wanted to marry Sophie the very night he met her. 😭 (Also, I kinda wish Sophie had a dog to keep her company when she was growing up alone. Perhaps a doxen.)

3. “From the moment he’d seen her—no, from the moment before he’d seen her, when he’d only just felt her presence, the air had been alive, crackling with tension and excitement. And he’d been alive, too—alive in a way he hadn’t felt for years, as if everything were suddenly new and sparkling and full of passion and dreams.”

The fact that he had been living a mundane life until he met her, and that she made him feel excited to be alive from the first day they met ❤️

4. “He just couldn’t stop from looking. It had become, in a very strange way, a part of who he was. His name was Benedict Bridgerton, he had seven brothers and sisters, was rather skilled with both a sword and a sketching crayon, and he always kept his eyes open for the one woman who had touched his soul.”

He only had one encounter with her, yet he actively looked for her for 6 months and stayed single for 2 years with the hopes that he might one day find her. 😭

5. “Let me be your anchor.”

For a man that says way too many stupid things. This is one of the best things to come out of Benedict’s mouth lol 😍

6. “Now then, I’m going to leave. And you have only one task while I go. You will stay right here, and you will keep smiling. Because it breaks my heart to see any other expression on your face.”

I love how much he cares abour her. He can’t bare to see her being ill-treated, he doesn’t want her to live her life serving others, he wants her to have all the comforts that he has, and most of all he wants her to be happy. The fact that he cares about her even more than her own father did. I CAN’T 😭

7. “You are not quite the man you present to the rest of the world. You’d like to be thought of as debonair and ironic and full of quick wit, and you are all those things, but underneath, you’re so much more.”

“But deep within you, in your heart, in your very soul, is the man you were born to be. You, not someone’s son, not someone’s brother. Just you.”

She’s the only person who saw the real person behind the nonchalant exterior. She took the time to truly get to know him, and for her, he wasn’t just another Bridgerton, he was her whole world. And that’s all he wanted to be. Someone’s number One. 😭😭😭😭

8. “You make me smile,” he whispered. “When you don’t make me want to scream, you make me smile.”

Can we take a moment to appreciate how chaotic these two are. I mean, imagine the little spats they would have as a married couple. They totally hate how much they love each other and it’s so funny.

9. “It was strange, to find a woman who could make him happy just with her mere presence. He didn’t even have to see her, or hear her voice, or even smell her scent. He just had to know that she was there. If that wasn’t love, he didn’t know what was.”

He fell in love with her before finding out that she was the perfect stranger he was enamoured with for years. He loved her for exactly who she was. She didn’t have to pretend to be anyone else. They made each other happy. And that’s what mattered to him. ❤️

10. “She is nothing but a whore,” Araminta hissed. “Her mother was a whore, and blood runs—urp!”Benedict had her by the throat before anyone was even aware that he had moved. “Don’t,” he warned, “make me hit you.”

Benedict Bridgerton, the ever so charming getleman was willing to go full crazy and hit a woman infront a magistrate for insulting Sophie. Now that’s love 😂

11. “I don’t think it’s terribly legal,” she said, “to embezzle a young woman’s dowry.” She smiled—a slow, satisfied sort of smile. “Eh, Araminta?”

After this moment I became a full on Violet Bridgerton stan. She’s the MVP of the entire series.

[apocalypseornaw]

Never Doubt Us

For @girl-next-door-writes make me feel bingo square "fairytale AU"

Sometimes the man isn't the knight in shining armor

How had you allowed your life to come to the point it had? With your commoner bloodline you never should have even known the Princes beyond their names. Thanks to the fact that your parents had been killed and left you in the care of their closest friend Sir Robert you’d been raised in the castle.

As children you’d played with Dean’s younger brother Sam. Dean didn’t play as much. He was stoic even at a young age especially when King John was around. It confused you as to why he would care if his son was to be allowed the simple privilege of being a child before he would have a kingdom placed on his shoulders but when you’d questioned it you’d been told to stay in a child’s place. Your friendship with both boys grew throughout your younger years.

As all of you grew and the Princes started to learn their own responsibilities you started to train with the other knights' sons despite being the other female in the bunch. Your prowess with a sword matched or outshone them by far, even gaining the attention of King John when he’d observe the training. You had no admiration for the king like the boys you trained with, you’d seen how cold he was towards his sons and knew that a measure of a king was how he was as a simple man as well. 

When he one day approached during training to question if you really thought a woman would be welcomed onto the royal guard you’d squared your shoulders and met his questioning gaze head on “King John would you rather someone on your guard who can deflect an arrow with her sword or would you prefer getting shot because you had a man at your side?” He’d laughed and had offered you a spot on Dean’s guard. You’d told him respectfully that you would only accept the offer if Dean was in agreement as well. You’d known he would you were friends with him as well as Sam even if you could never admit that to the king.

------

When you’d first been appointed on Dean’s guard there was of course some fallout. Men doubted a woman naturally. The first time King John had ordered Dean to go to a neighboring kingdom as an ambassador in an attempt to gain an ally he’d suggested leaving you behind. Dean had told him he would do no such thing.

On that trip you’d saved the princess of the neighboring kingdom from an assasitantion attempt, getting wounded in the process. It was also the first time you’d realized your feelings for your prince went so much deeper than friendship or even that of being his guard. Your only thought had been his safety even when the healers were patching your skin you’d asked of him. The moment the question fell from your lips it was as if those words summoned him. 

The doors leading into the room you were in burst open and Dean walked through followed by your fellow guardsmen Benjamin and Steven. When he saw you sitting up the anger in his bright green eyes quickly faded to concern “Are you well?” he asked and the healers quickly went over your injury then excused themselves Benjamin and Steven following suit.

You stood to dress considering you’d been forced to strip down to your underthings for your injuries to be treated. “The sword didn’t go very deep thankfully” you replied turning your back to him so you could slip your shirt over your head but when you flinched trying to get it on his hands had come to cover yours “We swam together as children. You’ve stood guard outside my baths I think it wouldn’t be indecent for me to help you dress” 

You turned to face him holding the shirt out. He took it but not before he let his fingertips trace the bandages on your side. “You secured the allyship single handedly” You forced a smile trying to look anywhere besides directly into his eyes. They were a shade of green that outshined any gem you’d even seen “At least my death would have held meaning had I met that fate” his hand moved from your side to cup your face forcing you to look him in the eye as he spoke “You being alive holds more meaning than any allyship ever would” you swallowed hard trying to push the feelings you’d developed for him down.

“Thank you” you whispered and he nodded then slowly moved his hand from your face “Let’s get you dressed then you’re off guard duty for the journey home” “Dean..” you started but he silenced you with a look “Are you arguing with your Prince?” the slight smirk that graced his face pulled a smile onto yours “Of course not” he nodded then gently slipped the shirt over your head tying it where it needed to be. 

The night after you were cleared by the healers to go back on full guard duty you were preparing to go to bed when a knock at your chamber door drew your attention. 

You crossed over to it and were surprised when Dean was standing on the other side. "Dean..I know you can out fight most of the royal guard but for my peace of mind I'd prefer you not wander the grounds alone especially after one of your guards thwarted an assassination attempt so recently" he smiled gently and looked almost sheepish which was by far not his usual demeanour "then would it be appropriate to ask that guard to accompany me for a walk under the moonlight?" 

You quickly schooled your features so your surprise wouldn't be as apparent "Of course. Let me pull my boots back on and we'll go" he stood just inside your chambers watching as you retrieved your boots and jacket. When you slid your arms into the sleeves of the coat he smiled "I see you are healing well"  you laughed "Ask Benjamin. I flipped him onto his back multiple times while we were sparring today" a flash of some emotion went through his eyes but it was gone as fast as it had appeared.

He motioned to the door so you walked out first and waited until he closed the door behind himself to ask "Is there a reason for this walk or did you simply crave some fresh air?"  He shrugged one shoulder "I think I craved the company more than anything" you tried to push down the flush of heat spreading through your face at his words.

You walked in silence next to him until the two of you were far out side the castle listening to the sound of a lone whippoorwill cutting through the night. 

"You seem to favor training with Benjamin" Dean spoke finally breaking the silence as the two of you neared the pond at the edge of the property. It was here Robert had taught the two of you and Sam how to swim. 

You walked over to sit at the base of the large tree that overlooked the water and Dean joined you his shoulder brushing against yours. Normally you would squabble over anyone being that close to you but this proximity with Dean was familiar enough to make your heart ache when you were reminded it would always simply be friendship. After a moment of thinking you replied "I suppose I do yes. I prefer being on duty with him as well. He's easy to talk to and was one of the first on the guard to welcome me instead of questioning me due to my being a woman" 

"He seems to favor you as well" you turned to look at Dean in the dim light of the moon and was shocked when you saw the twinge of jealousy his eyes held "Dean what are you saying?" "Do you have feelings for him?" 

You laughed more self deprecatingly than anything before responding "He's my friend and I trust him at my side in a fight but beyond friendship no I have no romantic feelings for him" Dean turned to look at you and you almost looked away due to the fact that this close a mere movement would have your lips touching "When you were hurt. I had no concern for the assassin or the princess. I wanted to be at your side. Steven and Benjamin both had to stop me and I still very nearly laid down pretenses of being a prince to get to you" you swallowed the emotions threatening to spill out so that you could ask "What do you mean?" 

You had a feeling but needed to hear the words for yourself, to know the way you felt about Dean was reciprocated. "I've fallen in love with you. Is there a chance you could feel the same" you were unaware you were crying until Dean gently wiped the tears from your cheeks as you spoke "I've loved you for years but you're destined to be king.." Your words were cut short by his lips finding yours. You gave into the kiss immediately melting against him. His hands moved to your waist pulling you into his lap as the two of you attempted to put every emotion you were feeling and had hidden into that one kiss.

When you finally broke away he rested his forehead against your neck "I have years before I have to become king. We can change things before then. If you want me, if you want this I would move the heavens for you" you laughed and gently touched his face pulling back so he'd be forced to look you in your eyes "I do not need the heavens and while I don't want to think about the future I do know that I've never felt as complete as I do right now" 

That first night you spent in Dean’s arms as he told you and showed you the love he had for you felt like heaven itself or the closest you’d ever get. Months passed and you were so close to being happy but then King John had taken ill. 

You’d known the day of King John's funeral that no matter how you felt about Dean that you couldn’t continue being with him. You stood at attention with Benjamin and Steven watching Dean welcome other royalty and noblemen and women. He was born for this, to be an extraordinary leader. You were born to be anything but. Had your parents survived you would've been married off in your teen years to whatever man asked your father first. 

Dean would need to take a wife, a queen to rule by his side and you could never fill that. You’d break your own heart before you’d risk him being hurt by loving you in any way.

------

That night Dean had come to your chamber. You knew he expected to be welcomed with open arms. You wanted nothing more than to spend the night wrapped up in him but knew it was up to you. He'd never accept you pulling away all at once but if you started slowly pulling away perhaps he'd lose some of the love he held for you then when the princesses from neighboring kingdoms started to come he'd give one of them an actual chance then your kingdom would have a ruler better than it had seen in years with him as king.

You answered the door in your dressing gown and saw the way his eyes ran across your body. It wasn't merely sexual. He looked relieved to see you and his eyes held so much love in them you nearly started crying from the task at hand. "I'm sorry Dean I just don't think it's proper for you to not be in your own chambers at this time. We have guests here in the castle and what if one of them comes looking for you?"

“Then come with me, please? It’s been a long day and I’d much rather fall asleep with you in my arms” “I am too tired to dress Dean and there’s too many prying eyes for you to be escorted to your chambers by one of your guards in a mere dressing gown”  “I am not concerned what they see, I love you and I want to be with you tonight” you closed your eyes and took a deep breath feeling your resolve waver but knowing it was for the best.

“I promise to join you tomorrow night my love” at your words a small smile slipped onto his face “I love you” you could feel yourself threatening to break even as you said in nearly a whisper “I love you” then watched him turn and walk away before shutting the door. You slid down it and it wasn’t until your legs hit the cool hard floor that reality hit you.

The man you’d grown up alongside, one of your best friends, the man you were in love with and wanted a future with was no longer yours to have. You allowed yourself a few moments to fall apart before pushing yourself to your feet. You needed rest and to plan how to get through the following weeks with your mental state intact.

You could feel eyes on you even as you spun out of Benjamin’s reach. Even when you sidestepped to dodge his next blow you knew he was watching. Dean had a way of making your body feel like it was on fire with just a look. You glanced up and spotted him standing with Sam, Robert and Queen Adelia who was no doubt visiting in an attempt to secure Dean choosing her daughter Princess Lysa.

You felt your feet go out from under you as Benjamin swept your legs out and when your back hit the dirt you flipped to catch him bringing him down as well. When you and Benjamin helped each other to your feet you realized Robert and Adelia were walking over with Dean and Sam trailing not too far behind. 

Robert introduced you and Benjamin by your name and rank you both held. You didn’t miss the look in Adelia’s eyes when she realized you held the same rank as the man standing next to you. “I heard about your woman guard, seems she made quite the impression amongst our allies” you smiled “Saving Princess Joanna from an assasination attempt did help” you saw a slight smirk grace both Dean and Sam’s faces as Adelia tried to rephrase her wording

“Oh dear that’s what I meant of course. Though why a girl as pretty as you would choose such a trade is beyond me” you brushed your legs off then shrugged one shoulder “It’s noble work. I’m protecting people I care about and my kingdom. Is that not much different than your position as a queen?”

“I suppose not dear” she smiled then winked at Benjamin “Who knows perhaps one of your fellow guardsmen will decide they want to make an honest woman of you” you had to remind yourself of your standing so instead of saying what you wanted you simply replied “I am quite honest enough all on my own. Now if you’ll excuse me Benjamin and I are due to the archery range to continue our training for the day”

You walked past Dean and saw the way his eyes tracked your movement. It had been a few weeks since King John’s passing and the pressure was getting more intense daily on him to choose a wife. You’d kept your word and had gone to him the night after John’s funeral but since then had nearly exhausted your list of reasons as to why you had gone from sharing a bed nightly with him to perhaps once a week if that.

You knew he was getting suspicious as to why and that it would eventually lead to him questioning you. You only hoped he had chosen a suitable wife by then.

------

Another week passed and you were walking with Benjamin and Steven across the grounds when you heard a noise that made your heart fall to your feet. It was Dean laughing.

Normally that would bring you joy but when you looked towards the sound to see him walking with Sam and Princess Lysa you felt sick. You knew she’d arrived the day before but this was your first time seeing her. She was beautiful. Her dress was made of the finest material,her dark hair styled perfectly. You watched the way she looked at Dean and had to suppress your anger. He belonged with someone like her, not you.

Unfortunately while Steven was oblivious to your actions Benjamin leaned closer and whispered “She’s not the type of queen he needs” you raised an eyebrow in question as to what he meant. 

He waved a hand around himself ignoring the fact that Steven had continued walking while the two of you were stopped “This kingdom needs a queen that matches Dean. Someone who will fight for the people, someone who is capable and has strength and warmth. Someone who can spill blood but comfort within moments of the other"

“And who might you have in mind because I’ve yet to meet a noblewoman like that” you questioned and he shook his head and continued walking leaving you to ponder if you were that obvious or if Benjamin was just that attuned to you and Dean.

------

You were headed to your chambers after a tiring day. You’d hear from too many of the castle staff that Lysa was extending her stay. There would be only one reason for that, a betrothal. You wanted to cry, scream or fight someone but this was what you’d wanted wasn’t it?

You were stuck inside your own head; you did not hear Benjamin calling your name until he touched your shoulder. You flinched despite yourself and he smiled warmly “Dean asked if you could come to his chambers, something of the journey to the northern isles?” That journey was still months away but instead of questioning it further you simply nodded “Yes I’ll stop by him”

Benjamin walked away so you took a shortcut that would get you across the castle without going by the guest area where Lysa would be staying. You doubted your ability to hold your tongue this late.

When you finally made it to Dean’s chambers you hesitated before knocking. The moment your knuckles hit the hard wood he opened the door and his smile made your heart skip. “If only I knew all it took was getting Benjamin to ask you here I would’ve done that two weeks ago” he stepped back to let you in so you took a few steps forward not going all the way into the room purposely giving a wide berth to the four poster bed that took up over half the room. You’d spent countless nights in it and now would be the last time your eyes graced it.

He stepped closer and despite knowing you shouldn’t you allowed him to pull you into his arms. You’d give yourself the memory of being held by him this last time. “I have to announce who I am choosing as queen within the week” you felt tears sting your eyes threatening to spill but you swallowed them down.

“Just know I hold no hard feelings Dean and I will cherish the time we had together” he pulled back from you and his face fell the moment he looked you in the eyes “What?” You smiled sadly “Dean we both know you have to choose a princess” “Says who?” “Tradition” your voice cracked on the word but you knew it was true, felt it to your core.

“I do not care about tradition, I care about you” he spoke, pulling you back into his arms. His mouth was warm on your neck when he spoke your name just above a whisper. His rough hands smoothing across your back sliding under the shirt you wore begging for access to more skin. “Please we will figure this out. I refuse to marry another when I know where my heart belongs” you closed your eyes to stow the flow of tears.

You owed it to him and to your kingdom to be strong. You loved him beyond anything that was why you had to stop this now he deserved a noblewoman, someone who came from a pure bloodline. Not someone like you who’d grown from a child being more familiar with a sword or a bow than a dress. “I will always love and I will protect you with my final breath but I’m not suited to be a queen. I’d never be accepted” you pulled away from him despite everything in you screaming to fall into his arms, into his bed.

You turned and quickly crossed the floor not looking back even as he called your name. As soon as you shut the heavy door to his chambers behind you that was when the tears started.

You stood at attention with the rest of the royal guard. You had not spoken a single word to anyone since the night in Dean’s chambers. You felt as if you had no words left within you. Today Dean would be announcing who he’d chosen as a wife. Princess Lysa was still staying in the castle so it appeared his decision was made.

When the bell sounded to gather all in attendance’s attention you looked up to see Robert standing at the raised part of the room which held the thrones during ceremonies. He met your eyes and his held nothing but sorrow. He knew your true heart and knew it was breaking but he also knew your strength. You would stand stoic while the man you loved announced his betrothal to another because it needed to happen. 

You watched as Dean and Sam joined Robert. Dean held your eyes for several moments before saying “I am expected to choose a wife, a queen for this kingdom. I am of two minds. One is the way my father raised me. He told me to put my duties first. My father would have chosen Princess Lysa for my bride” you swallowed hard when she stepped onto the platform next to him.

Benjamin looked towards you and you knew that was his silent way of asking if you would be alright. You gave a tight nod refusing to break even as Lysa moved to kiss Dean. He stepped away from her after whispering something that made her shoot a deadly glare your direction. 

He cleared his throat to settle the room when everyone started to speculate as to what was going on. “My father would have chosen Lysa for my bride but his father Henry my grandfather would have told me to listen to my heart. Sir Robert who’s watched me and my brother grow from small boys has always advised me that a strong king is a strong man. A strong man needs a strong woman in his life. I have long since given my heart to another and I do not intend to ever ask for it to be returned” he looked over at you and held his hand out. You took a deep breath but felt Benjamin's hand on your shoulder giving a gentle push.

Sam stepped off the platform to meet you halfway and held his arm out. You slipped your arm through it and allowed him to escort you despite the near deafening whispers being tossed about. Once you made it to the platform he gently put your hand into Dean’s who pulled you up next to him.

You watched Lysa storm off before turning your attention to Dean. He looked around the room then back at you “Tradition says I pick a noblewoman or princess. Before you, tradition says only men served the royal guard yet Princess Joanna is alive because of you. You came to live here at the castle when Sam and I were mere children, I’ve seen you stand your ground with my father. I’ve seen you go against enemies and do anything to protect those lucky enough to be loved by you. Over the years we formed a friendship and from there something so much more. I’m here today to ask will you do me the honor of being my queen?”

The entire room faded away. In that moment it was only you and him “Are you certain I’m who you want?” you asked and he nodded, taking the ring from Robert who held it out. “I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life” “Then yes” he slipped the ring onto your finger and pulled you into a kiss. Most of the room voiced their approval at his choice and when he pulled back he whispered “Never doubt us again please” “Never” you whispered then pulled him back for another kiss.

@girl-next-door-writes

[pink-flame]

Lucky it Was Hotdogs

So! This is my gift for the @jatp-gift-exchange celebrating 6 months since the show came out. I just so happened to be assigned my friend @tmp-jatp as my giftee. Which is awesome because she’s awesome. She asked for angst and my first thought was my reputation is just going to get worse. 😂 And then I started writing, started over, changed to a different prompt two more times...had a few breakdowns but here we are! Basically all of my friends had to hear about my spiral the last couple of days so thank you and my apologies. 🙏 

T, I hope you like it! 💜💜💜

In some ways Luke thinks that it’s lucky it was hot dogs.

Of course, if he had been asked to choose a way to go back in 95 he probably would have said old and in his sleep. Or maybe he would have been a smart ass and said jumping the grand canyon on a motorcycle or playing an epic show in bad weather and having some sort of electrical incident (Reggie wasn’t the only one who had been involved in that amp incident not that he was in a hurry to tell Alex that). Contaminated hot dogs in an alley on the night of their big break probably wouldn’t have occurred to him and it definitely wouldn’t have cracked the top ten list of his requests.

But now that he’s in the future, with his band and with Julie and with their dreams once again a real possibility...he thinks the hot dogs would have been the right choice.

The truth is it doesn’t matter how tragic it is that three kids had their lives cut short at the same time it’s always going to be at least a little bit funny that they went from death by hot dog. It lets him use the tragedy as a means of teasing Julie as she bites into her sandwich and it lets Willie give Alex an affectionate nickname that’s only a little in bad taste. It lets Reggie hover behind Ray when Julie’s dad gets the grill out and clutch his stomach dramatically in a reenactment for his friends amusement. It lets Julie look at Luke like the fact that he is a ghost is mildly exasperating but not inherently upsetting, not like it would be if he was a walking reminder of a car accident or the cancer that took her mom.

So yeah, it’s lucky it was hot dogs.

Except...sometimes Luke wishes that it wasn't.

Sometimes he wishes that he had died from an illness or an accident or anything that would prompt someone to look at him and ask if he wanted to talk about it. Because...he does. Just sometimes. Wants to talk about how much it hurt. Wants to talk about how scared he was. Wants to talk about how even though being able to make music still (being able to make music with Julie) matters most it does bother him.

It bothers him that Julie is the only lifer he can touch (even though she would clearly be his first choice).

It bothers him that he fades into non-existence as soon as they stop playing.

It bothers him that he can’t even thank Julie’s dad for hosting their garage gig or show her brother that he’s holding it all wrong when he catches him strumming lightly on Luke’s guitar one day.

It bothers him that he won’t ever be anything other than what he is, a teenager with a guitar and a longstanding suspicion about the consequences of wearing sleeves while performing.

It bothers him that Julie will always be what she is now (an amazing teenage girl with a wrecking ball voice and a heart big enough to keep them with her through sheer force of will) but she will also become so much more.

An adult.

Someone with a job and a family and…

He can’t think about it.

Except he does.

Not all the time but often enough, especially at night when Alex is off with Willie and Reggie is watching tv with an unsuspecting Ray and Luke is wishing more than anything that he could find the escape of sleep.

So usually he ends up writing when he feels like this, seeking out the familiar sensation of pen flying over paper, words tumbling from the deepest recesses of his mind to collect into the shape of a song.

I know I’m being selfish

But feeling alive isn’t being alive

Feeling you breathe isn’t breathing

I just want this feeling forever

Instead I count every moment I’m stealing

“Why are you writing in the dark?” Julie’s amused voice cuts through the silence causing him to jump, a remnant of a time when he had anything to fear other than his own uncertain future.

He’s not sure if it’s a ghostly superpower or just the fact that he had been peering at his notebook from only about an inch away but it’s true, he hadn’t bothered to turn the light on and he saw it just fine.

The dark felt more appropriate somehow when he felt like this anyway.

She flips on the light and crosses the room to sink down beside him where he’s spread out on the floor. He’s so distracted for a moment by just how Julie she always manages to be (beautiful and amazing and distracting in the best way) that he doesn’t realize that she’s reaching for his notebook until it’s too late. He tries to snatch it back fruitlessly as she turns her eyes to the words he has scrawled across the page. He hopes momentarily that she won’t be able to make out his infamously illegible handwriting but his hopes are dashed when she reads out the last few lines in a thoughtful tone. He has a brief flash of affection at the realization that she must be his soulmate if she can read his handwriting.

He’s distracted from that thought though when he sees the smile slide off of her face only to be replaced with a tight frown before she turns to face him, concern shining in her eyes.

“I’m fine,” He says quickly, hoping to prevent any of his dark mood from seeping into the girl beside him.

The girl who has already known enough darkness for a lifetime.

“Every moment you’re stealing?” She quotes back to him, setting the notebook carefully back on the floor. “That doesn’t sound fine.”

He considers brushing off her concern, playing it off, claiming he’s not even writing from his own perspective anyway, that he doesn’t know where the idea came from.

He can do that because he may be dead but the culprit was hot dogs and that gives him an out to make a dumb joke and change the subject and keep things the way they are now.

And if it was anyone else he would have. But it’s Julie. And he’s Luke.

She can read his handwriting.

And she can read him too.

If he lets her.

“You know how you said your dad made you talk to someone after your mom died?”

She tilts her head, clearly not expecting this question. She answers it anyway.

“Dr. Turner,” She nods. “Three times a week for a while.”

“Did it uh…” Luke swallows hard, his throat suddenly impossibly dry considering he was pretty sure he wasn’t actually producing spit anymore period. “Did it help?”

Julie’s hand twitches in her lap and he can tell she is deciding whether she should touch him. He reaches out to toy with the frayed edge of her jeans where they burst open at the knee. The answer to whether Julie should be touching him is always a resounding yes in his opinion but he also wants to let her come to him. It hasn’t been that long since they’ve even been able to touch each other and despite how much they crave it there’s a lingering awkwardness after all the build up.

“Talking to someone?” She asks carefully. “Yeah, it did. After a while I felt like I needed space to sort through things on my own but by then I was able to talk with my dad and Flynn too.”

He nods, keeps his eyes firmly on the hole in her jeans.

“Luke…”

Damn.

He has to look at her when she says his name like that.

He raises his eyes slowly, meeting her soft ones with nerves he can’t quite place.

“You know you can talk to me, right? Always.”

Her question is so small and yet so big at the same time. Such a simple offer containing such a big promise.

Always.

Wasn’t that the problem?

His always might not line up with hers.

He could forget that fact for a bit when the band was hanging out and laughing over nothing or rocking a crowd’s face’s off or when Julie was smiling in that certain Julie way that seemed reserved only for him.

But he couldn’t forget forever.

And he couldn’t promise always.

So where did that leave him?

“Luke?”

She breaks him from his thoughts again and he pushes past his caution this time, reaching out to link her hand with his, their fingers slotting together effortlessly despite the way one of them isn’t really there.  

He isn’t really there.

Is he...real?

Luke suddenly feels a strange rush of panic, all of the thoughts he’s been pushing aside for months crashing through him at once.

He must have squeezed Julie’s hand inadvertently because he sees her flinch.

“Sorry, sorry,” He says breathlessly (not that he needs to breathe, he’s breathless, literally, he’s dead), drawing her hand up to press an apology against the skin there, his lips lingering for a long moment before he pulls away.

She’s not unaffected by his sudden actions, the way her eyes widen for a fraction of a second is proof enough of that, but she’s also determined and she doesn’t let him off the hook.

“Talk to me, Luke,” She says like an order and a request and a prayer all at once.

And he can’t deny her anything.

Not even this.

“I’m fine, I am...it’s just...I’m so happy that we ended up here with you Julie no matter what. I need you to know that ok? I just..I don’t...I don’t want…”

She waits as long as she can for him to finish that sentence but when he doesn’t seem prepared to, she leans closer, squeezes his hand, gives him that last push off the cliff he’s been teetering on the edge of for months.

“Don’t want what?”

“Don’t want to be dead.”

The words escape him in a hurried rush, one blending into another until it sounds like one long syllable of pain rather than a proper sentence. Still. He’s pretty sure the message got through.

“I know,” She says simply, her eyes sad but her touch impossibly gentle as her free hand comes up to cup his cheek. “I know, Luke, I know.”

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until she’s brushing his tears away with the delicate tips of her fingers.

And maybe he is real, at least a little bit if his eyes can still muster up the ability to leak like this and damn it why is that what he’s thinking about right now when the girl, the living girl, he loves is waiting for him to say something.

He wants to think of the perfect thing but what ends up coming out leaves a lot to be desired.

“Julie...I love making music with you. I love y...I love being in your life. But I’m dead. And maybe...maybe it would be better…”

“No,” She cuts him off firmly, gripping his chin lightly to turn his face more fully towards hers. “Whatever you think you’re about to say, the answer is no.”

“Julie…” He tries again.

She’s already shaking her head.

“I don’t care if you’re about to suggest some noble sacrifice or push me away or blame yourself for something...just...don’t.”

Any protest he has prepared dies on his lips, the slightest quirk of a smile taking their place even as a few stray tears make their way down his face.

“Ok,” He agrees simply.

Julie brings her other hand down to grip his knee as though she’s trying to keep him with her by anchoring him physically, making him part of her, making him real.

And that’s that.

It takes time.

A hundred aborted conversations with half confessions and unspoken requests for comfort and love freely given if not freely spoken.

But eventually he gets used to talking to Julie the same way he got used to writing with Julie and singing with Julie and falling in love with Julie.

So steadily he doesn’t feel the progress until one day he looks up and there’s no going back, not that he would ever want to.

He’s dead.

He can’t get around that.

He ate some bad hot dogs, and that will always be a little bit funny. It’s also sad and scary and tragic.

He’s dead.

But he’s also so alive.

He can’t promise always but he can promise as long as I’m here.

And he does.

Over and over and over again.

[thebiscuiteternal]

“Support” Reverse Nies, Brother Bonds, A Little Dysfunction, Long Illness, Character Death, Politics, Writing This Was Inevitable, Nie Mingjue Was Like That Before Even Being Full Grown

__________

"Jue-er, stay inside until we know what’s going on, got it?"

Nie Mingjue is nine years old and his older brother is four months away from turning fifteen when their father is brought home from a joint night hunt on a stretcher, bloody and screaming. He watches from the doorway as his brother rushes out into the courtyard to meet the panicked knot of disciples, every healer they can spare from the medical ward hot on his heels.

Even in all the chaos, it doesn’t take long at all for word to filter back in his direction in a dozen different bitten off conversations.

Shattered.

Their father’s saber shattered. 

He is a little less than one year away from drawing a saber of his own, he knows exactly what that means.

He doesn’t sleep at all that night, but waits until the sun is peeking over the mountains to creep into the healers’ ward. 

Attempts have been made to clean up, but gods, there’s still so much blood. On the floor, on rags scattered about, spattered all over the clothing of the exhausted healers and physicians, on the bed… His father lies unconscious and partially bound, his brother and cousin beside him. 

All three look like they’ve just stumbled off a battlefield. 

“Sang-ge.” His brother raises his head, skin pale and expression dull with fatigue, then tries to stand. “Don’t,” Nie Mingjue says, rushing to help Nie Zonghui catch him and push him back into the chair before he can fall over. 

Nie Huaisang sighs, the sound deep and hollow, and leans into his side. “I suppose you’ve heard,” he murmurs, voice hoarse from barking orders he’s unused to having to give.

Nie Mingjue swallows past the lump in his throat and wraps an arm around his brother’s shoulders, shifting his weight to support him. It makes him feel a little less useless in the face of- “I did. What happens now?”

“They’ve managed to stabilize him. For the time being, anyway. I have to convene with the elders this afternoon to decide whether the succession documents are current enough, just in case.”

Just in case. He hates the sound of that.

Nie Mingjue is nine years old, his older brother is almost fifteen, and they keep silent vigil over their father as the sect prepares for the worst around them.

---

“Jue-er, go to our room and stay there. No matter what you might hear, don’t come out until morning, understand?”

Nie Mingjue is nine years old and his brother’s fifteenth birthday is tomorrow, and they should have been planning to celebrate. Instead, he is sitting on a stool in the secondary kitchen his brother occasionally claims, a steady stream of qi gently flowing from his brother’s hand into the injuries on his face.

Over the course of the past months, he’s watched his brother’s cheerful, teasing nature slowly leech away under the strain of trying to care for their father and take on the ins and outs of the sect, but never in his life has he seen him this angry.

Then again, never in his life had their father ever attacked either one of them.

He’s still a little bruised when his brother straightens up and the comforting warmth of his palm pulls back. On reflex, he reaches up and grabs the retreating hand. “What are you going to do?” he asks, unable to keep the faintest tremor out of his voice because he knows the answer.

He also knows all too well that between the three of them, his brother is the most physically vulnerable, and the thought of what might happen- 

“Don’t worry about it,” Nie Huaisang says with a smile so forced it hurts to look at, then gently squeezes his hand and leaves before he can protest whatever his brother is planning.

Feeling like a coward, Nie Mingjue returns to the room they’ve shared for safety since their father’s rages truly began to go out of control. ‘All the times you’ve argued with him and now you obey,’ his mind sneers bitterly. He bites down the shame and the stinging in his eyes and sits on the bed.

The sounds of crashing and yelling never come, but he isn’t sure if the silence is worse. 

But he waits until the sky is beginning to turn from black to grey before he opens the door.

A senior disciple -his brain is in too much of a storm to remember the name, or even register the face- meets him on the way to his father’s rooms.

His ancestors would be ashamed of the relief that washes through him when the news is delivered. 

His brother is still alive.

Their father’s suffering is over.

He finds his brother amidst a shifting knot of disciples and servants and elders, the funeral plans they’d made over the course of their father’s ‘illness’ already being handed out and implemented with sharp efficiency.

He’d be impressed if his brother didn’t look a wrong breath away from passing out. Ignoring anyone else trying to get his attention, he marches up and grabs his brother around the arm to help him stay on his feet, scowling at anyone who seems the slightest bit disapproving.

“Jue-er…”

He scowls at his brother too, when it looks like he might try to pull away, and his brother sighs and shakes his head with a fond look, then ruffles his hair. “Alright,” he says. “Alright.”

Nie Mingjue is nine years old, it’s his older brother’s fifteenth birthday, and they kneel silently in the great hall, still holding on to each other, as Nie Huaisang is officially declared sect leader.

---

“This shouldn’t take long, so just wait out here for me, okay?”

Nie Mingjue is nine years old and his older brother has been fifteen for all of six days when he is called to a formal introduction before the other great and lesser sect leaders.

The whole thing itches annoyingly under his skin. Most of them hadn’t even come to the funeral, and now his brother is expected to play the gracious host when they do show up. 

He decides to work off his irritation in the training yard, going through sword forms until his muscles burn and his breath wheezes in his lungs. He’s just finishing up when people begin trickling out of the main hall. Toweling down and making sure he doesn’t noticeably stink, he trots over to find his brother deep in conversation with Grandmaster Lan.

There are eyes on his brother’s back, and he bristles a little when he tracks the gazes.

The leer from Jin-zongzhu is almost to be expected. What worries Nie Mingjue, though…

At one point not too horribly long ago, he’d thought that Wen Ruohan and their father were friends. But he has heard the rumors, traded in conspiratorial whispers at the funeral when the gossipers thought he couldn’t hear, of how their father had allowed the leader of the Wen sect to inspect the saber that now lay in shards in his coffin. 

“Hey.” Fingertips tap his temple, drawing him back to find his brother standing in front of him alone, his conversation apparently finished. “You alright? You were gone somewhere for a bit there.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. What did Grandmaster Lan want?”

“Not much.” His brother stretches, clearly glad to be out of the meeting, and Nie Mingjue doesn’t miss the way Wen-zongzhu’s gaze tracks the motion.

There is something predatory there, something that reminds him uncomfortably of a tiger stalking a deer.

His hands involuntarily clench, and it’s probably for the better he doesn’t yet have a saber to draw or else he’s likely to cause their first diplomatic incident.

“Jue-er.”

“Sorry. You were saying?”

Nie Huaisang tilts his head slightly and narrows his eyes, but lets it go. “Since I won’t be able to attend the lectures in the summer, Grandmaster Lan has offered to send copies of some of the material I’ll miss.”

He can’t help a disbelieving grin. “And you accepted?”

His brother swats him in the arm. “Brat. Not even a week and you’re already sassing your sect leader,” he says, tone cut with amusement. “It’s fine, it’s not like he’s expecting me to actually study any of it as classwork, it’ll just be there if I need to-”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees servants arriving to guide their guests to their lodgings for the night, and he is more than a little relieved to see that Wen Ruohan won’t be one of the ones staying that long. 

At least they won’t have to sleep with blades by their pillows this time. 

Even so, he knows from the weight of that stare that there will undoubtedly be others.

Fine.

Nie Mingjue is nine years old, five months away from turning ten and gaining his saber, and he will start a war if the bastard that took their father touches his brother.

[cruciology]

Familiar Need

Requested by anon: Could you do a Sandor x reader she's one of Baelish's girls and Sandy is a regular and he takes her with him after the Blackwater battle? Idk if that made sense?

You sunk the pitcher beneath the surface of the steaming water, filling it to the brim before pouring it over the Hound’s head. Setting the pitcher on the wooden table next to the tub, you grabbed the bar of soap. The Hound let you run your fingers through his hair as you straddled him, both of your naked bodies hidden under the water. His hands held your hips, absently feeling the curves of your body as you scrubbed dirt and sweat and, most likely, blood from his hair. 

You had many odd requests from customers in your time; bathing together was a perfectly normal one compared to others. But you had heard many things about the Hound. You had been afraid when he paid for your services that he would be one of the more difficult clients, someone who took pleasure in hurting you, seeing you bruised or beaten. So you had been surprised when he had asked you to bathe with him. It seemed so innocent. What followed after was nothing but, but every time was the same. Every time, he wanted the same thing. Every time, he asked for you by name. 

He took the soap from you, taking his turn to wash you with his large hands. His thumb traced your nipple, making you suck in a short breath. In your line of work, you didn’t meet a lot of people that could make you do that. That was something else that surprised you when the Hound had first come to you. You assumed he would be like any other client, tossing some coins at you and finishing as soon as they could get their cock into you. But the Hound liked to take his time. He liked to hear you moan his name, to feel you come undone around him. 

You toyed with the thick, dark hair that covered his chest as he ran his hands across your back. You leaned in, placing a kiss on his scarred cheek first, then his lips. 

“Almost didn’t think you were going to come see me tonight,” you said. You knew how you sounded. Needy. But you had come to look forward to the Hound’s visits. The first time he had chosen you, you had been frightened, but that was over a year ago. You knew him much better than that now. “You haven’t been here in days.”

“Been busy,” He said shortly. He tucked away a strand of your hair that had fallen loose from where you had tied it up. It was hard to believe that the hands that had taken the lives of so many men could be so gentle with you. The other women in the brothel were terrified of him. They didn’t understand how you could let him touch you, let alone how you could look forward to it. It wasn’t a secret that he was a killer and that he took pleasure in it, but that wasn’t the side he showed to you. You often found yourself aching for his touch. Like right then, when you sat on top of his thick cock, hard and waiting. You could easily adjust yourself and have him fill you, but you only had to wait a bit longer. 

“Been busy a lot since dear King Joffrey took the throne,” you said with no attempt to hide your disdain. 

“Keeping that little shit alive is a lot of work,” the Hound grumbled. He would never speak ill of his charge with anyone but you. He wasn’t stupid. 

“Is it true what they’re saying?” You asked. “About King Robert’s brother coming with an army?” 

“Do you really want to talk of battles and war?” The Hound asked, dropping the bar of soap into the empty pitcher on the table. 

“I don’t care much for war, no, but I do like to be informed,” You said. “It’s not a secret that Lord Stannis has no love for women in my profession.” 

“You do sound informed.” 

“If we manage to survive the attacks, I fear I don’t know what he’ll do with us afterwards, the godless whores.” It was a bit of a hot topic in the last few days. You had to assure the other girls that you were positive things would be alright despite having little optimism yourself. 

The Hound kissed your collar bone, then your throat, moving to your jaw, and finally kissing your lips. His hand caressed your cheek, his finger tips burying in your hair. He pulled your hair down, the ends of it grazing the water just slightly as it fell down around your shoulders. You traced your thumb along the burned side of his face as you kissed him back. He used to hate being touched there, thinking that it must disgust you like it did everyone else. Now, he enjoyed the feel of your soft hands against the ruined flesh. 

“Nothing will happen to you,” The Hound promised, his lips still on yours. 

“You can be so sure?” You asked. 

He stood up, holding you tightly against him with just one arm. Sometimes you thought he just liked to show off how strong he really was, but you didn’t really mind. You liked how easy it was for him to hold you. He stepped out of the brass tub, still dripping water. Taking you to the other side of the large room, he pressed you onto the fur blanket on the bed. In one quick thrust, he was fully inside of you. You never could quite get used to his size, it always made you gasp. Normally, he liked to take his time, exploring all of your body before entering you, but he seemed to know how badly you needed to feel him, all of him. 

“I’m sure,” He said, kissing you roughly. He took both your hands in his, drawing them up above your head and pinning them. His free hand slid down your body, following your curves to the point where your bodies met. He rubbed your clit with his thumb, making you arch into him, your eyes squeezing shut. 

“Sandor,” You gasped out. His grip on your hands tightened and his speed quickened. Each thrust of his hips slammed into you, making you feel closer to the breaking point. He knew exactly how to make you come undone. The stars of light burst behind your eyelids, your chest heaving as you came. The Hound released his grip on your hands, holding himself up on his elbows as he pushed into you almost violently. 

You pushed him back, rolling him over onto his back and catching him by surprise. He held your hips to guide your rhythm. It was his favorite way to fuck you. He was so much larger than you, he worried you’d be crushed under his weight. With you on top of him, he could focus on how good your pussy felt. You liked being able to watch his face as you fucked him. You liked seeing his eyes squeeze shut as he felt you slide up and down his hard cock. You liked the feel of him digging his fingers into your ass. You steadied yourself with your hands on his chest, rolling your hips against him. 

“Fuck,” The Hound growled as you rode him. He squeezed tighter to you and you knew that meant he was close. He would pull out of you just in time to finish on your thigh with a grunt, but very suddenly, you didn’t want that. You moved your hands over his where they still held you. 

“Finish in me,” You said. You heard him curse again before you felt him shudder, filling you with his hot seed. 

His chest heaved as you got off of him. You rested your head on his shoulder, finally feeling the cool night air on your still slightly damp skin. You lay in silence for a long time, just listening to his breathing. 

“You’re that afraid that you’re going to die?” He asked finally. 

“I wanted to feel all of you,” You said. You could still feel him inside of you, not just the dull but pleasant ache he always left, but also the stickiness creeping down your thighs. “Don’t leave tonight.” 

“I can’t-,” 

“Sandor,” You said, lifting yourself onto your elbow. He studied your face as you looked down on him. “Please, stay.” He didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed you by the waist, pulling you back on top of him. You laid your head on his chest, letting him pull the blanket over both of you. 

Stupid. You were bloody stupid. You should be down in the basement with the rest of the girls, but instead, you were up in the brothel alone. Even Littlefinger was nowhere to be found. If he could be counted on for anything, it would be saving his own skin. 

You were only out of hiding out of sickening curiosity. You heard rumors of wildfire. You figured you would be safe enough, with the battle being mostly on the shores. If you had just stayed inside, watching from the safety of your room, you would have been fine. It was when you decided to step outside of the brothel. 

You weren’t even ten steps away from the door when you were pulled so hard you feared your arm would pop out of its socket. You immediately shoved back, but when the dagger pressed to your throat, all attempts to fight back were quieted. 

You couldn’t tell where the man had come from, what side he was on. It didn’t really matter. Both had bad men and any man threatening you with a blade was bad in your book. You were sure you knew exactly what he wanted from you. A man coming to a whorehouse wanted one thing. 

“Let’s step inside,” He said, smiling with a rotten mouth, reeking of ale. His weapon was still pressed to your skin. If you so much as breathed too heavily, you would bleed. 

“Please,” You said. “Just lower your dagger.” 

“How do I know you won’t run?” The man asked, keeping his dagger exactly where it was.

“Where is there to run in all of this?” You asked him. As if to make your point, a flash of green fire burst to the chorus of screams. 

Looking satisfied with that answer, the man pulled his dagger away from you, his hand still tightly on your arm. But with a flash of silver, his grip went slack and he was suddenly relieved of his head. It was your turn to scream. 

But your terror only lasted a moment when you realized who the sword belonged to. 

“Sandor!” You cried in relief, throwing you arms around the Hound’s neck. He hugged you back, lifting you off the ground, holding you so tightly you could barely breathe. “Are you alright? Why are you here? You should be-,” 

“I know where I should be,” The Hound said, setting you back on your feet. “And it’s not in that fucking castle.” 

“Won’t you be in trouble for abandoning the king?” 

“I’ll be in more trouble for telling him to go fuck himself,” The Hound said. You let out a surprised laugh. “I’m leaving. Tonight. Right now.” 

“What?” You felt as if you had been slapped. “Where?”

“Don’t fucking know, but I’m going,” He said. He grabbed one of your hands with his, dwarfing it. You always felt so small next to him. Small, but safe. Always safe. “Come with me.”

You studied his face. He knew what he was asking. This wasn’t a fleeting feeling. You belonged to Littlefinger just as much as the Hound belonged to the King. You would be stealing yourself away, but it would be in good company. 

You squeezed his hand and nodded. 

[fourfucksake]

online meeting

pairing: chris evans x black!fem!reader

warnings: cursing, stripping, masturbation

word count: 4.2k

p.s this workpiece is set in an alternative reality. this is a professor!chris one shot + i imagined y/n as a black girl, but i hope every single one of you lovely people will read!

Heaps of new policies bombarded universities since the spread of the virus. The amount of preparation and paperwork that had to be completed due to the newest conditions in the teaching system made everyone stressed to the maximum level. Perhaps, that’s why teachers communicated more during those challenging times; only those who work in the same environment can relate to your work frustrations. Individuals whom before appeared almost invisible where now your online buddies. It was quite incredible though.

Chris enjoyed the feeling of this community being available for him whenever he feels like expressing his irritations and or simply desires to moan about his dislikes. Before, he has never considered himself to be a whiner, but since everyone has been constantly moaning and pouting, he thought this is the right time to join the club.

Taking into consideration the current state of the world he was assured that everyone is a complainer right about now. He was okay with that though. No doubt, he didn’t know much about psychology, however, it seemed only logical to allow people to talk about how they feel. Also, it appeared plausible people felt scared, confused, or worried. Hey, these were very surreal times. There was no reason to make others feel bad about having emotions.

Of course, there was some resentment towards certain members of University since all the teaching went online. Sometimes, Chris felt like most of his colleagues gave rats ass about regulations and procedures that were now put in place. Instead of trying to provide the best learning experience possible, they restricted themselves to slamming all the work materials online for students to figure everything out on their own.

Personally, he found online teaching unbearable and exhausting. He hated it; there were no words to describe how much he despised it. At first it was alright; it was tolerable and doable. In a way, it was nice. Being at home, able to wake up later than early morning hours. Being with his dog and going on long walks wherever he wished. Being able to take his time with cooking, exercising, reading. All of those mentioned were exceedingly pleasant.

However, Chris chose to be a teacher. He loved spreading his knowledge around. Since an early age he would teach his younger brother; he was much help when it came to revising, essay or exam tips. This was his passion, he loved it. This pandemic undeniably took this away from him. However, there was still room to provide students with knowledge this way, and he tried extremely hard to do so in most effective ways.

For example, he did not have to orchestrate his own online meetings to be this long. Half an hour, that was a long time slot. This was planned completely on purpose. Ultimately, his desire was to provide students with the time to talk to him, express their concerns, and ask questions. Maybe he took this job way too seriously, he thought, and it wasn't needed. However, there’s always this teacher everyone likes, and Chris wanted to be precisely that guy. It wasn't some stupid ego thing, not at all. He genuinely wanted people to feel like he is there for them and wants them to succeed. Every single individual had an ability to be successful, some just needed an extra push too keep them on track. Although his own schooling experiences where genuinely pleasant, he knew he would benefit more from University experience if he had a teacher like him. Not to lick his own ass, he thought, of course.

After years of working in the schooling system no errors have ever occurred. Until last year, when the last class prior to pandemic began their college journey. Back then and there a problem has arisen – you. It was no one else than little Miss Perfect, the girl who made him look twice when she entered the room. Oh, how tiring and fatiguing crushing on you really was. Chris was always collected and focused while working, but with you in his classes he found himself distracted. Often losing his train of thought, his mind shifted to dark places when your class sat in front of him. Chris was a perfectionist, so this was, in fact, greatly infuriating for him.

He did not feel this way since high school. Back in the day he was not the coolest kid you could walk past in the corridor. Thankfully, he has never had his head shoved in the toilet, but not being bullied did not necessarily mean there’s a successful high school experience behind an average American. In his own opinion, he was just a normal kid that had nothing to show for back then.

Precisely that, being average, was now the reason behind this familiar feeling. A pretty girl, a popular girl causing vivid emotions to flush down himself. Looking at her while she does the most ordinary things was the reason behind the uncomfortable state in his pants. His hormones went ill around her, reminding him of how tough being a teenage boy with no control over his erections was. It felt so familiar, craving her this badly, almost as if he’s done it before. Maybe, in a way, he compared you to someone he crushed on for the whole duration of high school. A beautiful skin complexion, addictive smile and those big, shiny eyes staring at his soul; those qualities of yours highly reminded him of her.

Chris remembered that girl very well. He recalled being fascinated by her presence, by her strong personality, and hypnotic prettiness. Her name did not pop up in his mind for years. Until he met you. Chris had Pearl, Pearl Bennett, tattooed on his brain back then. Needless to say, it was embarrassing how annoyingly beautiful she was. Just like you. Now, he didn’t even know if she was alive, he hasn’t seen her for years. It never really bugged him then, it didn’t bug him now. It was just a pleasant memory that he was able to recollect because of you.

He wasn’t sure about your feelings towards him. Mr. Novak, his colleague, often commented on the way some students would look at him. Chris regularly heard Novak claiming that Evans could get any of “that young pussy” if he only snapped his fingers. Whether it was true or not, he had no idea. Maybe, he was just humble. Or stupid, possibly very stupid.  

The house was practically unoccupied now; his wife was dropping groceries off at her mum’s house and Dodger was nowhere to be found, most likely sleeping someplace in the house. Chris did not mind. In fact, he was relieved to have no other human being here. Since pandemic began his marriage decreased in its quality drastically. For quite some time existing relationship brought more annoyance than joy. He was not sure if it went both ways but noticing how regularly his wife exited their house in recent times it was healthy to assume the feeling was mutual.

How did he feel about his failed marriage? Weirdly, he was awfully okay with it. There was not a single part of him that cared enough to fight for this marriage any longer. Right now, all his thoughts were concentrated around another female. How she managed to look delicious without trying. How she smiled or laughed. How her faced twisted with grumpy expressions once she didn’t understand a certain concept of a lecture. Chris could go on, and on, and on.

It was not possible he could describe you in any other word than perfect. It was quite pathetic, he thought, it shouldn't be like that. Yes, you are a pretty girl and yes, no man can probably say no to you. There was just something about you, something so extraordinary that it took his breath away. What was this fascination? He wasn't sure. However, what he was positive about was that he enjoys looking at you. He enjoys listening to you. He enjoys thinking about you. He enjoys all those things way too much; he was aware of that. He was not ready to stop thinking about you just yet.

Now, sitting in front of his Mac, his eyes were focused on the screen. He wasn’t too up to date when it came to the modern technology, but he also wasn’t clueless to how to work a computer. Setting everything up, he glanced over at the previously printed list of names with time slots besides them. The list was not in alphabetical order, students had their half an hour available for the next eight hours of his life.

It would be a lie to say he was not thinking about you. He was looking forward to seeing your face, even if it’s only on the computer display. Your surname and student ID were somewhere halfway through the list. Naturally, he searched for your name straight away after the programme generated the list.

The ticking of the clock hanged on the nearby wall sounded out so clearly. Almost like a racing heart whenever one feels more strain than usual. He could feel the nervousness growing within him as the time passed. He almost felt bad for the kid who had his scheduled meeting right before you. Chris kept on stuttering, disconnecting, and asking for questions to be repeated. Unfortunately, there was no strength in him to think about the failed one-to-one since his brain was too concentrated on you. His favourite, little student.

His thought process was disrupted as a green dot appeared next to your surname, suggesting your online availability. Licking his lips and fixing his hair, his fingers position themselves on the mouse. One click and the signal began. Beep one, beep two, beep three.

“Hi, Mr. Evans!” Her bubbly voice caused Chris to smile. She waved and in response so did he. She seemed happy, her face expression indicated nothing but joy, he enjoyed it greatly. “Hi! How are you? How’s everything?” He asked with an honest curiosity, still smiling at his student. It’s been months since the last time they spoke without anyone else around. Of course, this was the first instance of them conversating in those settings, but he did not mind. Any type of physical interaction seemed impossible now and anytime soon. This was the best he could receive for a significant period for now.

Their faces didn’t shut for the first couple of minutes. Talking about the past months, Chris was quickly reminded of how smart and funny this girl infatuating really is. They seemed to be getting on well right from the first meeting. Weirdly, she had similar likes and dislikes as well as sense of humour. It was like talking to a long-term friend whom you haven’t seen in the longest time. He noticed her hair change, spotting the long knotless braids; in his opinion she looked completely stunning in this hairstyle. He was quick to comment on it and as a reply he was given a complement on his newest buzzcut.

Sadly, but still, he ended the chit chat to focus on discussing work material. Chris tried to stay on topic and somehow it was going well. For the next couple of minutes, he chatted about work. His hand travelled to the left side of his desk to glance at a list of things he wanted to mention, however, he got cut off by the voice emanating from the screen.

“Are those meetings being recorded, Mr. Evans?” She raised her eyebrows with interest spread across her face. Her back bent forward, causing her face to enlarge on his screen. “I mean like,” She continued and coughed. “Is anyone going to watch this later? Does anyone have access to this after we finish talking?” Her question expanded or rather multiplied, sounding out in Chris’ air pads. There was no denying he was conflicted about why she was asking this question. This was not his first online meeting and not a single individual showed any concern in this matter.

“Well, no, not really. If any of us wanted to report our meeting for any reason then I guess, um, I guess it is possible to reopen the video chat,” Slow nod was all he could do at this very moment. No doubt, he still was not able to understand the nature of her question. “If any of us found the other person’s behaviour concerning, rude or inappropriate then the IT services could recover this video chat.” He added in a robotic tone almost as if he were reading from the script.

“Would you want this meeting to get inappropriate, Sir?”

He chocked a little as his eyes widened. He wanted to slap himself across the face in response to his pathetic reaction. Shouldn’t the age gap mean something? Why was he behaving like he’s on her leash? Why was he this…nervous? Excited?

Assuredly, she should be the one who is intimidated, meanwhile it’s her making the first move. He wasn’t sure whether this simply comes from his politeness and gentles; obviously, momma Evans raised him to be a respectful man. It’s apparent, the fear of scaring you was blocking all his possible moves. Risk of being reported for improper behaviour in the workplace was also a worry of his, but it came nowhere near the terrifying theory of frightening you.

But here you were. Being indecent with him. And oh, how he loved it. How he enjoyed this single sentence leaving your pretty lips. Your remarks were more enjoyable and exciting than everything he has completed with the woman he married in the past year, if not longer.

Was he being delirious? Did your comment indicated what he thought it did? Possibility of his mind playing games on him was high. It’s so easy to assume things happened when you wish for them to happen.

“Do you want to make it inappropriate? Do you want me to be inappropriate with you, Sir?” A deep breath left his mouth and a shiver travelling down his spine followed. He was now sure; he did not misunderstand. This was not his imagination playing him, tricking him into believing there’s something here that does not exist. All of this was very real.

“Whatever you wanna be on this call — I’m happy with,” He managed to speak out loud, fixing himself on the chair. This was a bad idea, he thought once again, a horrible idea that could quite literally ruin his career. Was he going to stop? Prevent this from happening? No fucking way.

“Huh, you sure about that, Mr. Evans? I can get really filthy when I want. I am a naughty girl,” Your words hit him like a truck, and he couldn’t help the blood rush in his trousers. He licked his lips slowly and pressed his back onto the chair. He could say something, but he chose not to. Whatever you planned on doing suited him and there was not an ounce of interest in preventing you from doing so.

No further words were spoken. There was a moment of short silence that felt like forever. A moment for someone to back up, break this madness off. No one expressed a need nor a want to stop. She played with her nipples through her shirt before they journeyed up. The straps of her pale pink top slowly moved down her arm, his eyes patiently followed. To him, you were mesmerising. At this moment you had his whole attention.

Looking straight at him, her hands removed the top and carelessly dropped it on the floor. His eyes glued onto her as the soft material left her body completely. He tensed as his length twitched, reacting to her breasts and hard nipples. Her skin was complemented by the colour of a previously worn top but seeing her without it sent shivers down his spine.

Chris could feel the discomfort in his pants becoming unbearable, needing to expose himself immediately. With shame, but still, he slowly undid his zipper. For a while now the feeling downstairs was insufferable, pleading and begging to be uncovered by his hand. Chris gulped back the lump in his throat as he completely freed his member. The view on the screen made his dick ache, his length twitched, jumping again his tense stomach.

“Liking this?” She teased, firmly grabbing her breasts. His eyes darken when he took in all her naked presence. The way she touched herself, he wanted that too. He wanted to feel her nipples between his fingers. He ached to be close to her.

“I wanna see all of you,” His words escaped his mouth, hand firmly grabbing his cock. Without shame nor hesitation his member was stroked, slowly and decisively, as his back leaned on the chair comfortably.

She was quick to listen. So submissive, he though, hand still firmly hugging his man part. He observed as she stood up, taking a few steps back. Still looking at Chris, her body turned around in a circle. Her moves were slow, very captivating, making Chris feel like every single movement was in slow motion. He already adored her body.

Her hands roamed around her own body before she slipped her hand inside her shorts and panties. Subtle movements of her hands indicated she’s pleasuring herself right in front of him. By her expressions, he was able to conclude that she’s enjoying herself. She didn’t play with herself for too long. Pulling the defiant material down as her eyes travelled to his, she exposed herself completely. He felt his mouth dry at a sigh of her bare body. She gave him a sultry look, realising the power she now held over him.

“Is this how you like me, Mr. Evans?” She broke of the silence, still exposing her hot flesh. It took Chris a couple of second to even register the question, his imagination run too wild to focus now. “Do I like you naked? It’s certainly a more thought-provoking image than how I usually view you,” He teased, slightly raising the corner of his lips in a smug smile.

Licking his lips once again, he watched as she took a box from underneath her bed. It was a regular box, nothing fancy. Taking off the lid her hand searched inside for a short moment before pulling out a pink dildo. Suiting, he thought, always liking this colour on her. He admired how her skin tone was complemented by the shade.

“I love imagining it’s your cock fucking me instead of my dildo,” She said completely unprovoked, making Chris widen his eyes. They did something naughty, something filthy, yet this comment really threw him off. “I’m gonna show you how I play with myself when I think of you,” She added and waisted no time before sitting on the bed. Chris had to admit, he spotted the bed straight away when the call started. Picturing himself laying there, you next to him, he took some time imagining the wicked scene you two could create on that mattress.

“I will show you how much, how much I love picturing us together,” Her seductive voice reached Chris’ ears, his interest growing with every single second. There was this unexplainable fear within him at this very moment, fearing she is going to stop. He was helpless now, he needed her to entertain him long enough for him to reach satisfaction.

Licking his lips once again, he watched as she took a box from underneath her bed. It was a regular box, nothing fancy. Taking off the lid, her hand searched inside for a short moment before pulling out a pink dildo. Suiting, he thought, always liking this colour on her. He admired how her skin tone was complemented by the shade.

“I want you to watch,” His student said firmly, staring right at him. The sound of a dildo followed. Chris’ breath was caught in his throat straight from the anticipation of the next step she’s going to undertake. With hunger, Chris watched as she teased herself, rubbing her clit. The toy fondly slid inside of her, resulting in her lewd sounds and Chris’ silent moan.

Her nipples were hard, her unoccupied hand coming up to fondle them both whilst her bottom lip was taken hostage by her teeth. She was really enjoying herself; Chris could tell. The bed made a squeaky noise every time she moved. The call was so clear, thank God, he was able to enjoy every motion of hers. The moans, whimpers and groans escaping her pretty lips as she fucked herself with a toy. The quality of the video chat was good, but not great. He wanted to see her in full HD, he wanted to see the details. For now, though, viewing this was enough. This was damn good, so good. Those desperate hand movements, stuffing the length as deep as she could, it drove him insane. Oh, how he wanted to stretch her out like no one did before.

“Just like that, baby,” He groaned, squeezing his hard cock. He was conversating with you through moans, examining you as the vibrations caused tingles in your lower department. He couldn’t feel it, but he knew her pussy was throbbing and pulsing, desperate for more length to enter. His body parts were no different; his balls felt heavy and his dick was hard as a rock, begging for a dream release.

The heat began to grow within his body with each and every movements of hers. She kept him going, moaning his name, calling him daddy, reminding him who she’s pulling this show for. If only she had any idea what it did to him. A shaky hand wrapped around his length made rapid movements, fighting for his orgasm to arrive. Watching her, listening to her, it was magical. This craze he had within him, this fixation she caused – it was obsessive. A loud scream, her thighs closing on the pink toy and her eyes shut while she orgasmed was enough, it was everything.

The feeling of euphoria intensely swept through him as a creamy load exploded in his hand. She could not see it, but he knew she felt it. All that left his mouth was a silent “fuck” as he collected his breathe. Chris was in pieces, still processing previous events. It was now clear to him how he pleaded for that orgasm to happen, how he needed it. He was embarrassed to admit how strong, how intense, the load bursting onto his hand really was. Lucky for him, no one knew anything about it but him and himself.  

„You liked this little show of mine, daddy?” Her voice awakened his senses, causing his mouth to water once again. She caught him looking at his crotch, now surely convinced what happened. She removed the toy from her body, a silent whimper followed. She threw it away on the bed like it was nothing, like it did not help them both cum just minutes ago.

“So much baby, so much. Can you show me s’more? One more time,” He breathed, looking at her with lust. She obeyed, without hesitation; her body rose from the bed and did a slow, full 360 to demonstrate her delectable features. Maybe, he was delusional, but he was sure her juices travelled down her leg. If he were right next to her, his tongue would have taken care of that.

“See you in a seminar, right, Mr. Evans?” Her sweet voice rang in his ears followed by his quick nodding. He had a chance to see her collecting the missing wardrobe that she then put on right before him. Chris could not help but notice her shaky legs. She sat down in the exact same position as before. She reached for a cup, drinking, and sipping the liquid through a straw. Now, she was back to her regular self, looking innocent once again. It slightly woke him up, brought half of him to reality.

“Yes, Miss. I will see you there. Be good, huh?” Chris said casually or at least he tried to do so. He was caught by surprise, convinced that he’s going to slur over his words more. He caught a glimpse of her eyes, forming as much of an eye contact as possible through the processor. Her current thoughts seemed impenetrable to him, although he always thought he’s amazing at reading facial cues.

“Me and you both know - I won’t.”

The last words of his current interest sounded from his Mac. Sending him a flirty wink before pressing the right button, she terminated the call. The intense orgasm left his hand still somewhat shaking. Eyes focused on the screen, he looked like he was awaiting another glimpse of her to come back.

Chris’ ecstatic state wasn’t quick to falter. It took another couple of minutes for him to do anything. Literally, anything. He was already late for the next meeting, which he felt absolutely no remorse for. His eyes lowered to look at the mess he produced; his mind displeased as he had realised, he needs to move to clean it.

Once again, it was just him and his usual surroundings. The call was over, just like that, almost as if it never happened. Despite his deepest longing, he could not go back to what just happened, he could not relive it. Your moans and whimpers performed in his head like a favourite song one would put on replay without a hesitation. He was craving more, his fingers curled into fists as he felt his cock hardening again. He was not sure what his next moves in this matter will be, but he was more than sure he needed to be inside this beautiful body.