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pagerunner-j · 2 years ago

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No one ever plays along if I post ask memes and that just gets depressing, so…fuck it, I’m pretending somebody cares and living in my own delusion for a few minutes.

CRITICAL ROLE ASK MEME ANSWERS THAT NOBODY ASKED FOR (except for me, and I’m in charge here)

1. Character you don’t particularly like, but will defend vehemently when people dislike them for the wrong reasons.

Orym. I have…issues…with Liam’s inability to let go of his dead character’s girlfriend, because not even counting Vax, we’re on character #3 who has something to do with or a deep interest in Keyleth. Wee little bit suspect, my dude. But if you ignore the matter of backstory, Orym’s just a little guy who likes pie, loves his friends, and is trying his best to do the right thing, and he’s an absolute kick-ass fighter. I’m enjoying him in combat more than anyone else on the field right now. Most importantly for this question, he is not boring just because he’s good or because he isn’t wearing all of his trauma (okay, a little bit of his trauma, but not ALL) on his sleeve. I really gotta wonder sometimes about all y’all folks who can’t get invested in anybody who actually has their head screwed on straight.

…welp, apparently I’m in a mood. Okay then. Onward:

2. Favorite unhinged shopkeeper.

There are so many candidates. It’s still hard to beat Victor, though, and Matt embodying him on screen that one Halloween only solidified it. LEARN FROM MY MISTAKES!!

3. Minor character people in the fandom are obsessed with that makes you go “them? why?”

Kynan. Let’s review: hero-worshipping nerd boy with stars in his eyes but no sense gets his ego bruised by being (sensibly) rejected for the adventuring life, and takes it so poorly that he runs off, attaches himself to an ascendant supervillain instead, and is there at her side when she murders one of our heroes. Then half the fandom (and, to my dismay, Matt even made comment about liking the idea) decides that he deserves not only a redemption arc (okay), but also to be handed Cassandra as a romantic partner and, I don't know, fucking consolation prize (NOT OKAY). Again, let's review: she's the traumatized sister of the guy he helped murder, who was abused and tortured in large part by the lady he decided to work for.

ARE. YOU. FUCKING. KIDDING. ME.

(remainder of this rant redacted because my first outburst was not kind.)

4. Minor character you are (correctly) obsessed with.

I thought about this for a while, drew a weird blank, and then my brain provided me with the Shadow Baker just because the name is so fucking funny. I would go to the Shadow Baker any chance I got. I want delicious shadow pastries. Shadow breads. Shadow cookies. Fruity, chocolatey, shadowy tarts. Shadow everything. Dusted with powdered shadow sugar.

And now that I said all that, I hope there’s also a Shadow Dentist.

5. Meta you would write if you did not fear people would be SUPER weird about it. This is also an invitation to write that meta and block the haters.

I…think I might’ve already done that. *looks upward a couple paragraphs*

6. NPC you would most like to see as the subject of a Tales of Exandria series.

I’d say Cassandra, except what I actually want is novels, and I want to write them.

7. Alternate outcome in a main campaign that you don’t necessarily wish happened, but that you wish you could see played out in an alternate universe before returning to ours.

The Sunken Tomb going differently,* i.e. with Percy ending up with the Raven Queen’s armor. I also would have color-shifted it. Somewhere in my head there’s an image I can’t shake of the gun-wielding White Raven, blood artistically spattered across his otherwise pristine feathers, because that dude still and always deserves to be as anime as goddamn possible.

*P.S. Since I keep tripping into rant mode anyway, here’s another: I hate dungeon design so damn much, and I have infinite sympathy for anyone who doesn’t think to check for traps on every possible object. A: No real thing is ever actually built like this. It’s just in games because GAME LOGIC. B: I’ve done enough time as a rogue to be bored to tears and dissuaded from ever playing the class again because I'm so sick of having nothing to do but check for traps every five steps. I have a hard time blaming Percy and/or Taliesin for any of what went down. Also, anyone who tries to add that Vex was being greedy is going to get an intimate introduction to my fist.

8. You may personally require that Liam O'Brien plays a non-core four (ie, not a Rogue, Wizard, Cleric, or Fighter) character for at least 10 episodes - he cannot in any way be one of those classes, even as a multiclass. If you like Orym, assume this has no impact on him. What class or multiclass do you have him play?

I want him to take a page from Imogen's book and go wild magic sorcerer. I want it to be as chaotic as possible and to fuck with him seven ways from Sunday. I want uncontrollable Polymorph. I want him to be beset with sudden hordes of flumphs. I want him to hit himself with a fireball like Caleb gone wrong(er). I want him to become a potted plant. I want Liam the prankster to prank the hell out of himself simply by existing.

9. Location in Exandria you’d like to see in a possibly canonical one-shot/EXU but with non-main campaign characters (as in Song of the Lorelei/The Darrington Brigade)

Mostly I’d be interested in places we haven’t been before. There’s a lot of Issylra that we still know nothing about…

10. Favorite and least favorite Matt Mercer Original Subclass. (edit mine because like I said, I'm in charge here. And also I read it wrong the first time. Oops.)

Blood Hunter kind of occupies both slots. For reasons.

11. A common stance within the fandom you would most like to eliminate on the specific grounds of hypocrisy/self-contradiction.

Skipping this one because stuff like this melts my brain. Except maybe for my rant above, I guess.

12. Best ship of the literal seafaring vessel or skyship variety.

The Joyful Damnation. …wait, wrong D&D show. (but please watch Oxventure it’s great okay moving on)

I think I’m cheating and just saying every skyship BECAUSE SKYSHIPS. Insert picture here of Scanlan and Percy romantically pining over the idea of having a skyship of their very own.

(I mean romantic in a general, conceptual sense. Not in a shippy way. Except that it’s actually about ships. Scanlan/Percy/Skyship platonic OT3.)

13. Favorite D&D PC (guests & EXU included but must be a PC) of ?

Brain still melted, sorry. THIS IS A LOT OF CLASSES TO COVER OKAY and so let’s just go to:

14. Describe the art you would most like to create or commission if talent/money were no object.

See above re: the White Raven. Also, someday I am going to put my meager artistic talents to the test and attempt to draw a single tarot card: Caduceus as the King of Cups. My friends, there is life beyond the Major Arcana. Please try to remember that the entire fucking rest of the deck exists and it’s symbolically interesting too so crack open an analysis book sometime and learn something please and thank you and I’m stopping there before I go any further into a run-on tarot rant that, again, nobody asked for.

I’m not sure what happened to my commas tonight. Sorry. It’s been a day.

15. Favorite one-on-one conversation (can be between two PCs, or a PC and NPC).

I can’t even begin to narrow this one down. Percy and Vex in the Feywild. Caduceus reading Trent for absolute filth (respectfully). Imogen and Laudna just…always. Jester and Beau talking tarot. Tary and Pike and the flashcard scene. (Oh, god, the flashcard scene.) Grog and Craven Edge. Fjord awkwardly but sincerely wooing Jester. Percy and Vax in the bathtub, mostly for what happens after (sorry, Liam). Keyleth and Percy talking legacy. Jester and the Hag and Laura Bailey winning D&D. Jester sending messages to…anybody. I’m forgetting, like, thirty-seven things. You can probably tell who most of my favorite characters are, though… *awkward cough*

16. Favorite group (all/most of the party) conversation.

Two-parter: the blazing row when Scanlan left, and later in that episode when the rest of the group met Tary. Absolute whirlwind of emotion and a masterclass in character from all concerned. Plus well-deserved Nerf-dart chaos and Laura ineffectually hurling wads of Kleenex. Can’t top it.

17. You know that post that’s like “I wish you could filter in ao3 on ‘attitude towards a canon event’?” In the world of imagination, you can! What’s the event or attitude?

Mostly I avoid this problem by avoiding whole damn characters, I’m not gonna lie.

18. Share one unpopular opinion but it must specifically only pertain to Sam’s ads.

They didn’t deserve to get crucified for the Wendy’s one-shot. (It was a sponsor, he DMed, it counts.) It’s not actually much worse than any other sponsored event or ad partner, and just because people decided to get all high and mighty about worker rights for this one company doesn’t mean that there isn’t just as much bullshit of a different flavor happening at other companies that they’ve happily partnered with and which none of you objected to at the same scale, or, for that matter, at all.

*side-eyes the fuck out of, oh, I dunno, let’s start with Blizzard*

19. You can swap one subclass (not class) for any one main campaign main cast PC. Which character, and what’s their new subclass?

*blanks out completely while staring in the vague direction of the PHB* I’m…claiming amnesty on this one. Sorry. T i r e d .

20. What non-D&D TTRPG would you most like to see Critical Role run a one shot in?

Blades in the Dark. Please, please, Blades in the Dark. We got close when Aabria started seeding in bits of it for EXU. I want more. It’s such a good system.

21. You can eliminate one ship that did not become a canon, reciprocated relationship from the fandom’s consciousness. It is entirely gone - no fics, no posts, no doctored out of context gifsets inexplicably claiming that Travis ships it, no anon hate, no drama. Your blocked tags list becomes several entries shorter. A weight is lifted from your shoulders, and you take the deepest breath you’ve taken in a long time. Anyway, now that you’re feeling relaxed and inspired, what do you think Bertrand Bell’s fighter subclass was?

Caleb/Mo……oh. Um. Bertrand. Right. I wish I knew, but as I have already proven, D&D minutiae makes my head hurt and I am tired and sad today and very smol so let’s go on with —

22. Assume that every single non-multiclassed wizard PC OR significant wizard NPC (includes EXU Calamity) are in a battle royale, and all are level 16. Who would you bet on as the winner?

Rincewind because he’d run away to safety before anyone could hit him.

…I don’t care if he’s not a CR character, I said what I said.

23. You can guarantee that Vax lives at the end of Campaign 1. However, you must trade his permadeath for the permadeath of a different PC who was dead for more than a minute. Your options are Percy dying permanently in 1x68; Scanlan dying permanently in 1x83; or Laudna dying permanently in 3x34. Do you choose to do so, why, and whose death do you trade?

Vax stays dead. Listen: Vax had a STORY. He had stakes, he had joy, he had sorrow, he got conflict and resolution and dramatic payoff to some of his deepest personal storylines, he got a bittersweet romance, he got his heroic sacrifice, he got the gentlest possible ending anyone could possibly have asked for under the circumstances, and all of it makes for an arc that has completed and is done. Everyone else would just have been interrupted before their story got where it needed to go (like, even though you didn’t mention him, Molly). Scanlan dying there would have served no narrative purpose at all and would have paid off nothing, and it would have deprived us of SO much good stuff in the fallout. Percy actually did get to a point where if he’d stayed dead, I would have been sad as hell but would have understood it, because the way that story built up, it made sense and it wasn’t cheap. It’s still much better that he came back and got to complete the character development journey he was on (somewhat despite himself), though. And Laudna just absolutely does not fucking deserve dying, not now and not for a long time yet. She’s just barely getting the chance to live for herself at all. Let her stay.

And for the love of fuck, let Vax go.

24. You can guarantee that one Evergreen Question you write is pulled on 4-Sided Dive AND that the four cast members you most want to answer it are on that month. What’s the question, and which cast members answer it?

What’s your favorite type of evergreen tree and why is it the Douglas fir?

….actually, that’s just me answering the question. Because #CascadiaNow.

(We have a flag.)

(The tree is on it.)

(*waves flag*)

25. What class do you most want to see Matt play if he is in a future EXU campaign as a new (not Dariax) PC?

I want to see Matt play a class invented by somebody else at the table. I’m thinking Sam and Liam should collaborate on this. (Liam because he can probably crunch the mechanics best of anybody, Sam to bring the chaos.)

26. You must swap one nat 1 die roll with one nat 20 die roll. They must both be from the main campaigns, but can be cross-campaign. Which are they, and why?

I’m having a hard time thinking of any I’d want to change. Sometimes the failures are too interesting to mess with. (Grog falling over dead in the snow, I’m looking at you.)

27. Pick one character, ship, or party; and one song you associate most with them, and explain why. This song cannot be on an existing playlist from the main cast. It also cannot be We Have it All by the Pim Stones nor Dust Bowl Dance by Mumford & Sons; I love those AMVs but please think for yourself.

- the whole party

- any party

- “We Like to Party”

(I am bad at character playlists, okay? ONTO THE VENGABUS WE GO)

28. Think back to all weird or bad opinions (pertaining to Critical Role) you’ve seen but which were not elaborated upon. You get to make one, and only one, person have to provide an honest response about what the fuck they were thinking. Which opinion do you receive the honest explanation for?

I have done my best to strategically delete these from my memory and am not going to attempt file recovery.

29. You can give any PC a Staff of Birdcalls. Who do you give it to?

Jester. This isn’t even a question. Just give her one now, please.

30. What is your favorite theory or headcanon that has absolutely no bearing on the plot and isn’t important at all, but which is completely compliant with canon?

The entire notion of getting that invested in headcanon mostly just wears me out, and I’m saying this as a fic writer, which I acknowledge makes very little sense. Yet here we are.

31. A really weird fey entity grants you the following boon: you can magically make it so that whenever people try to draw Imogen with glasses, the glasses magically disappear. All you need to do is hit the DC. The DC begins at 15, it is a simple d20 die roll with no modifiers/additions, and you can reduce it by one for every month you live with canon, pre-episode 2x26 Mollymauk Tealeaf. You do have your own room, but the walls are thin. After 15 months you automatically succeed and Molly disappears as though he had never existed. How many months do you live with Molly?

I’m in it for the long haul. I will learn to make my peace with chaos. I will make friends. I will maybe even join in the party. I will enjoy getting more of Molly’s presence and I will do my best not to go crazy in same.

Because fuck those glasses.

(I love glasses; I wear them myself; I give them to characters at the slightest provocation; but canonically she doesn’t wear them, so please just stop.)

32. If the CR main cast were to play the original 7 tombtakers per The Nine Eyes of Lucien (Brevyn, Cree, Jurrell, Lucien, Otis, Tyffial, and Zoren) in a one shot, who should play whom? Assume Matt DMs, but you do not need to have Taliesin play Lucien.

Hate to admit it, but I’m not invested enough in any of those characters to care.

33. You may ask any member of the cast one, and only one lore clarification question. What do you ask?

Mostly I don’t want to nitpick or pry, and honestly, most LORE(tm) as nerddom treats it both irritates and frustrates me. I don’t want to reduce all of narrative to filling out subheadings on a wiki page and then insisting that anything that doesn’t match up bREaKs CaNoN and is BaD. What I want is folklore, not Lore(tm), and there’s a very real difference.

On that note, I want Taliesin to tell me absolutely everything about Melanie de Rolo, and every other specter haunting that place from before his character’s time. Ghost stories for days. Bring it.

34. You meet an old woman in the grocery store and help her with her bags. In return, she tells you she can guarantee that Campaign 3 will be fantastic, and that there will be a Campaign 4 set in Issylra that is also fantastic. However, she warns you, the price is that Marisha and Laura’s characters will never be in a romance together, nor will Taliesin and Liam’s, though there will be significant queer romances aplenty, both F/F and M/M, in said campaigns. Do you take her up on her offer?

In a heartbeat.

ROMANTIC SHIPS ARE NOT THE ONLY THING THAT MATTERS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD

and pleading for personal vaidation via smushing your faves together because it HAS to be CANON or else it is a BETRAYAL and PROBABLY HOMOPHOBIC because YOU ARE BAD IF YOU DON’T GIVE ME WHAT I WANT is unhinged

neither of these pairs have to fuck ever

we’ll live

…sorry I think I started yelling somewhere in there

I’ll stop

35. You can set the time and place of the next EXU series, but it cannot be within 100 years of the Calamity nor Divergence. When and where do you set it?

Naples, 1973

36. Every cast member must create a main campaign character loosely based off a character they played in a one-shot not set in Exandria, a la Chetney from Chutney (as a result, Travis is excused from this exercise). Who should they choose? (Please note that Bar Room Blitz is set in Exandria. You cannot pick Jayne and you’re boring for thinking it.)

MANCUBUS!!!

Because MANCUBUS!!!

37. You have to take a 16 hour road trip with one NPC from each campaign (all at once, ie, three other people). The NPCs cannot shorten the road trip in any way and the road trip must be via driving but you can do it in two 8 hour days and share a motel room if you’d like. Who do you pick?

Tyriok; he’s the map guy and will get us where we’re going. Eshteross to bring delicious cookies. And Iva Deshin to read us passages from her favorite smut books from Chastity’s Nook and keep us all entertained (and Tyriok absolutely scandalized, the poor dear).

38. Assuming that your rent and basic living expenses are paid regardless, nothing cataclysmic happens while you’re there, and your race and class are perceived as completely average and nothing to comment on, which city in Exandria would you most like to live in for a year? You must spend the vast majority of your time there.

Whitestone. I want to get in on their technological boom. The intersection of magic and the mundane, and how those things inspire, leapfrog, and challenge each other, is my absolute jam.

39. Favorite parental figure NPC?

Veth had the best arc here by a mile. It’s hard not to like Marion, though.

39. What named but as of yet unseen character do you most want to see onscreen?

Imogen’s mom.

I want this story, like, yesterday.

#critical role #ask memes #in which page gets both opinionated and ridiculous #occasionally at the same time

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lazarettta · 3 years ago

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Misthios VII

Pairing (Mother Miranda x Spartan!Reader)

Rating (M)

Word Count (4.6k)

Warning (probably language right now)

You and Miranda are finally moving on to having that long chat that's separated you both for centuries.

The Queen's eyes fluttered open, finally waking with the morning rays of the sun peaking over the mountain. Her balcony doors were wide open to let the cool night breeze into her personal chambers while the two fireplaces burned well into the night. It was a combination of warm and cool that her majesty enjoyed greatly as it helped her with sleep.

Of course, sharing her bed with you also aided with her troubles with sleep for the past few months since your arrival to the region. Wonderful in all the ways she could never have imagined; a warrior and a lover, the two things that made her life easier—and the lives of her enemies that much worse.

It had been well past dinner time when you returned to the castle along with the squadron of soldiers you'd gone with including a Captain of the military who was leading the raid. Part of your armor had been slashed and torn, stained with blood and whatever else you encountered outside of the castle walls.

But when Miranda stood in the doorway of her private bath watching as you stripped of your amour—she witnessed no open wounds for her to tend to or fret over, but blood stained your skin anyway. Even though she knew that she should have the moment she noticed: Miranda never questioned why you'd always have a new scar every other day or why your shirts had the evidence of a stab wound taking place right above your hip, including a blood stain, but all you could do was smile when asked about it.

“ Is everything alright, your majesty?”

Miranda blinked, her mind coming back to reality now finding herself sitting up in her bed currently being blinded by the morning sun. The Queen sighed heavily, looking down at your sleeping form—as always you were on your back with one arm tucked beneath one of the pillows behind your head and the other was being used as Miranda's pillow for most of the night. As always.

Like herself, you were bare as the day you were born...your entire torso shamelessly revealed for her roaming insatiable eyes...and she smirked when a particularly cool breeze swept through the room. She watched the goosebumps rise under your exposed skin, including your nipples making Miranda hum softly.

“ Y-your majesty?”

Miranda, suddenly remembering just what, or rather who, had bothered her before and looked towards the girl, pleased when she saw that her eyes were on the floor.

“ Everything is more than alright, girl, however you may leave... I'll be out shortly.”

A hand curling around her waist brought Miranda's gaze from the closing double doors where the meek girl disappeared through and back to you. Your eyes were still closed but you were starting to wake up, stretching like a feline and again Miranda's eyes were drawn to your chest.

“ Carved by the Gods,” she mumbled, the tips of her nails tracing your firm abdomen with no particular pattern, simply enjoying the light marks she was leaving behind around your belly button, knowing how much you enjoyed when she did that as well.

You saw the thoughtful look on Miranda's face when you opened your eyes but you couldn't stop the giant yawn from escaping, “Morning,”

Miranda smiled down at you, enjoying the way the sun made your skin glow but you weren't fooled by that smile—you were used to Miranda's smiles and this was one of her worries. The sort of smile where she wanted to reassure you while scolding you at the same time. You pulled away slightly, and sat up a bit so you could give her your full attention. When the monarch remained silent, simply staring at you, all you could do was raise an eyebrow...waiting.

Miranda scoffed at the action, shaking her head, “It's ironic isn't it, how we the others tales...but we do not truly know each other, do we?”

You shrugged, smirking at her—refusing to hint at the nerves beginning to crawl up your spine, “Pretty sure we know each other inside and out, your highness.”

Miranda gave you a look, clearly unimpressed, “Yes, beneath that charm and nonchalance...is something quite fascinating, isn't there? And...it seems that your truth only comes to light during battle.”

“ Pardon?” you sat up a little more now, eyebrows furrowed—unsure where Miranda was going with this but you no doubt that it probably wasn't going to be good for you. Especially since you're naked and vulnerable but not defenseless.

“ Captain Ake came to me last night after I left you to your bath, he seemed quite concerned with something...and quite frankly, I'm curious myself.” Miranda's hand had stopped tracing patterns on your stomach, but her hand still lingered...and the moment her index finger traced over the raised skin right next to your belly button, the brand new one, you knew you fucked up.

“ About what?” You mumbled not daring to look down at her hand, and her eyes burned into yours—playing dumb would only get you so far—probably the dungeons if you were lucky. You knew exactly what Ake was concerned with though you weren't sure if he actually saw you take a sword through your gut as it was so dark and everything happened within a blink or two.

“ What I am going to say next may sound crazy, however, Captain Ake is one of my most loyal subject in this castle, and quite sane...he claims to have witnessed you being impaled,” Miranda exhaled slowly, “By the enemy...and somehow managed to walk away from it, unharmed. Would you mind telling me what happened, my dear?”

You stared at her for a second, “And...you believed him? Could I have really been stabbed by a sword and do what I did last night? Do you know how insane you sound?”

“ Watch your tongue! You're still addressing your Queen, warrior.”

“ I'm sorry, but you seriously don't believe that shit do you?”

“ I've been noticing a few things myself, (Y/n)...and I would really like some answers myself.”

“ Right. I'll take that as my signal to leave, your majesty. Thanks for letting me sleep here last night.”

Miranda's eyes narrowed slightly, reaching out to grab your wrist to prevent you from running from her, “(Y/n), do not run from me...I'm only trying to understand! You can trust me, this I promise you, I'm not going to hurt you.”

You wanted to believe her, but you had to learn the hard way that trust was nothing but a word—a word that can be broken over and over. You were too stupid to learn in the past but you weren't about to do the same thing now. Pushing the covers aside you threw some mundane excuse over your shoulder but before you could actually get to the edge of the bed, you were pulled back and pushed back into your previous position. It didn't actually hurt but it wasn't gentle either but you were pretty sure that it was Miranda that moved you, but you hadn't actually felt or seen her move a muscle.

“ W...how? Miranda?!”

Miranda smiled shyly at your bewildered expression—a very rare expression from the Queen but like yourself, she was feeling quite vulnerable, “You're not alone, (Y/n)...and neither am I.”

“ Neither....are you?” Miranda chuckled at your expression and your inability to put two and two together. When you tried to sit back up, Miranda's shy smile morphed into something more amused and predatory because you realized that you couldn't move—and Miranda still hadn't moved an inch.

“ Ah, now do I have your full attention?”

The closer you got to Miranda's home the more treacherous the path became and you'd lost sight of the woman flying low above the trees ten minutes ago—or what you thought to be ten minutes, you weren't sure. Your eyes were glued to the ground, keeping a firm but relaxed grip on the reign of your stallion, Bruce, whispering gently to him. Alcina called him a gentle giant and she wasn't exaggerating. The path was narrow and very unkempt but you wouldn't expect Miranda to make things easy, especially access to her private home.

There was a point that you weren't even sure you and Bruce were actually going to make it across but there was no way you could've turned the massive horse around either, forward was the only way and you weren't ashamed to admit that your heart was pounding hard enough to crack bones. The moment you cleared the trees, Miranda's home finally came into view—and you were not disappointed. It was a simple two story cabin practically etched into the mountain and you wanted to know how the hell she managed to get this place on the sliver of rock.

You'd brought Bruce to a stop just as Miranda appeared and landed gracefully on her porch even with her heels on (you caught a glimpse of them earlier when she started flying). From her porch alone, Miranda had a perfect view of everything . The village, the manor sitting on the waterfall, the factory and of course the castle. There was a light blanket of fog obscuring most of the view, but it was still breathtaking all the same.

You dismounted Bruce easily, gently guiding him to the post next to Miranda's porch. You fed him a few sugar cubes, gingerly untangling part of his dark mane and pulling free a few twigs and leaves.

“Further up the path I have there's a stable for him, we can take him later.”

You turned to look at Miranda, finding her standing in the door looking at you, her expression unreadable and you were too tired to try and decipher it. You double checked the post before steeling your nerves and joining her on her porch, it was roomier than it actually looked and you spotted a hammock on the other corner—not the usual netted sort, it looked like a quilt and quite comfortable too.

You followed Miranda inside, shutting out the cold—the interior of Miranda's home had you stock still at the front door with your hand still on the door knob. The space was open, having the living room and the eating area open with no barrier, and you could easily see the kitchen from where you stood. It was...cozy and warm.

“Surprised?” Miranda's voice brought your eyes to where she was, now half way up the stairs behind the kitchen wall, she wore a soft smile, the front of her robes already opened (you didn't even realize the fucking thing even had a zipper), revealing the slacks and blouse she wore underneath, “Did you expect me to live in a cave?”

“I expected you to at least have a TV.”

Miranda smirked but it didn't reach her eyes, “Are you going to stand there bitching about the lack of media corruption or do you want that shower?”

Your hand finally relaxed off of the door knob, the light throbbing resulting in just how hard you were holding the poor thing. You kicked off your boots at the door—they were covered in mud, snow and probably horse shit at some point, they were filthy. And the last thing you wanted to do was dirty up Miranda's wood floors.

She waited until you were on the stairs to continue up herself while slipping her robe from her shoulders and casually throwing it over her arm as if it were just a towel. ��There are only three rooms on this floor. My own, the guest room and the bathroom.”

You raised an eyebrow, “One bathroom?”

“I don't exactly keep guests, dear.”

“So then why the extra bedroom?” you were being a shit, you knew it, but you couldn't help it—Miranda made it easy for you to tease her sometimes (all the time). You wanted to be more bothered over how easy it was for you to fall back into old habits with this woman.

“The longer you stand there being an idiot, the colder your water gets.”

You raised your hands slightly, moving past her towards the door she pointed to, flipping on the light—it was roomier than you expected it to be, dark and a bit modern but Miranda somehow still managed to keep it grand and medieval. The floor was made of stone, there was a grand shower with a curved glass door and next to it was a bear claw of a tub, melded into the floor like it was a hot spring. Across the floor was a single sink and a mirror, and next to it a door where you assumed you'd find the towels and toiletries. Just past the tub, was the toilet though there was a half wall there to offer some privacy and you spotted your backpack sitting on top of it neatly and that finally gave you pause.

“Figured you didn't want to walk around naked or wearing any of my clothes.”

You hadn't even noticed that you had actually walked into the bathroom, admiring it's simple yet beautiful décor or that Miranda followed you in until the shower sprung to life next to you.

She smiled at you apologetically, not having meant to startle you—but seeing you so easily bothered helped put her at ease. Miranda was good at hiding it, but she was quite nervous. Having you so near and so far from her at the same time in the comfort of her own home, her sanctuary—none of the other Lord's knew where she lived, they probably thought she lived in a cave or a nest or something. You were Miranda's first house guest since she arrived in this village.

She closed the shower door, watching you open your backpack—checking through it, and she couldn't stop the small smile from forming after you smirked, realizing that you were still without your weapons. But you didn't make a comment on it, instead beginning to pull out the things that you needed—until you realized that she was still in the room as well.

You raised an eyebrow at Miranda, and her smile only grew but the blonde simply shrugged her wings and tucked her wings tighter to her back as she exited the room, “I'll be downstairs when you're finished...”

“Miranda—”

She paused and you froze, fuck, why did you do that? You hadn't meant to call out to her, but your mouth was faster than your brain sometimes and now she was looking at you expectantly and all you could do was stare at her like a jackass. There was so much, too much, that you wanted to say but where could you even start? Why were you getting this courage in the fucking bathroom of all places?

“Downstairs.” She reminded you gently when the silence stretched too long—you had panicked and she saw that, and instead of jumping on you like the predator you knew that she was fully capable of being—she left you alone to your thoughts and the hot water steaming the room, calling your name. It was a welcome distraction even if it wouldn't be a forever one.

“Being immortal really is overrated.”

Miranda didn't go downstairs immediately, instead making a beeline for her bedroom and closed the door behind her but left it ajar enough for her to still hear you in the bathroom. Miranda carefully hung up her 'Mother Miranda' robe and began stripping out of the clothes she's been wearing for the past two days along with her rings; finally taking off the crown of Mother and just becoming Miranda with every stitch of clothing she removed from her flawless skin.

Standing naked in front of her full-length mirror, Miranda whispered a delicate but very familiar spell she's known since she was a small child and she winced quietly as her wings folded back into her body for the next six or seven hours. The spell wasn't forever but Miranda often used it when she was home to avoid breaking her things as she often did if she let her wings remain as they were, they often got restless if she stayed home and still too long so she just opted for putting them away to save herself the trouble. And money.

When the last two smaller ones on her lower back finally retreated into her skin, Miranda rolled her shoulders to pop out the kinks. She got dressed in a pair of washed out pants and a v-neck shirt, and at the last minute Miranda threw on her dark wool cardigan before heading back downstairs but not before pausing outside of the bathroom door. She heard you humming over the shower and though she didn't recognize the song, it still made her smile.

Suddenly feeling like a creeper, Miranda moved away from the door and went downstairs to start on the coffee she was craving earlier. She got her fireplace going but that all took less than ten minutes and now she found herself back in her kitchen, pulling ingredients from her refrigerator to give her something to do besides fret.

“ You shouldn't be so comfortable with your champion, in public.” Fritjof complained for the thousandth time in her ear—he was one of her primary advisors, having been employed by her late husband, the former King. He was always a bit of an annoyance, but he often proved himself useful and unwittingly saved his own life time to time from Miranda's ire.

“ I was only congratulating her on another victorious raid on a neighboring kingdom that thought it wise to steal from us, or have you forgotten that little fact, Fritjof?”

He frowned, not liking her tone but he quickly corrected his features knowing that they were still in the halls on their way to the Queen's study, but there were still eyes on them, “I...yes, but it sends the wrong message when you send a blood wolf to handle this kingdoms affairs instead of your loyal officers! You make us all look weak!”

Miranda stopped walking, and whirled around on Fritjof, her coat wrapping around her leather clad legs as she did so, and the frail man jumped back a step, knowing that he overstepped a line severely, “A-apologies—”

“ You will apologize with your tongue!” Miranda hissed, “Though I'm sure (Y/n) would rather have your head for all the times you've questioned her loyalty to this kingdom! We're coming up on eight years, Fritjof, and (Y/n) has helped this kingdom prosper more than you ever could've in your twenty years with my late husband.” Miranda sneered dangerously, edging closer to him and the terrified man could only back up into the table, knocking over a vase but Miranda paid it no mind, “One more word about this and I will have you removed. Permanently.”

Fritjof swallowed harshly, beads of sweat forming at his hairline and rolling down his face, and Miranda's sneer deepened in disgust, “Please, your highness, I'm only looking out for the future of the kingdom! It—it needs an heir and a King! The other kingdoms will never recognize your power without either—” his words were cut off when Miranda struck him down, a single line of blood staining a portrait on the wall behind him. Miranda struck faster than he could react and Fritjof cried out in pain, alerting the guards who came running but stopped when they saw their Sovereign standing over the slimy advisor holding part of his face, blood starting to seep through his fingers.

“ For every brilliant woman, there's always a stupid man thing to be found.” Miranda stepped over his pathetic body and continued on her way, rolling her shoulders back when her back began to twinge in response to her high and irritated emotions, and she needed release. “Get him out of my sight and find my champion; send her to me when you do.”

“ Yes, my Queen.” They both replied, one of them roughly hauling Fritjof to his feet and pushing him forward, but not before the man could cast one last glance at Miranda's retreating back until he was shoved forward. “Move!”

The cabin was filled with the aroma of sweet bread and coffee and your stomach was growling something vicious halfway down the stairs after you put your back in the guest room. Miranda had her back to you and you took the moment to stop at the bottom of the stairs to just observe her. The very first thing you noticed was that her wings were gone and she was more relaxed—it probably had a lot to do with her being in her own home, and it was starting to make more sense why she wanted to be in the comfort of her own home for this conversation. Though her argument for privacy was valid as well.

Your eyes flickered around the open space, spotting something tucked in the corner of the living room and scoffed without meaning to and alerting Miranda of your presence, if she wasn't already. She turned from her task of fixing you both something to eat to watch you walk across the room to where the object of your interest lay with a carefully crafted expression.

“Didn't take you for owning a rifle.”

“It's ten years old, I believe.” Miranda hummed quietly, dusting off her hands before taking down a couple of plates from the cabinet above the stove. You looked at her when she didn't elaborate, really curious now.

“It's in pretty good condition, really beautiful...where did you get it?” you checked the clip and saw that there were exactly ten rounds in there. When Miranda didn't answer you immediately, you found her watching you.

“It's not mine.” Miranda set the plates at the small eating table that could easily seat two other people, “I took it from a witch hunter as he was so kind to come all this way to visit. He tried to kill me in my sleep like a coward. He intrudes upon my home and couldn't be bothered to give me an honorable death. The audacity of men certainly hasn't changed over the years.”

Her tone was not lost on you and you knew that the witch hunter was long dead. You traced the steel design grip, impressed at the detail—and distracted.

“Oh, so now you hate men?” Ah... and once again your mouth was faster than your brain could process, and just like that her eyes were on your back—you felt it.

“I've always hated men, (Y/n). I...” she sighed harshly, her eyes turning into a glare, “Stop doing that, you don't have the entire story so if you're done being an ass and running from this conversation—I would really like to clear the air between us so we can move on from this.”

“You mean your truth that you want me to hear so badly?” You chuckled though it lacked any amusement. You set the rifle down, finally giving her your full attention then sighed heavily—a sudden exhaustion falling over you, “Would it really matter at this point, Miranda? It happened centuries ago...we both moved on, why do you want to drudge this back up?”

“Why don't you?” Miranda moved around the table, the coffee and snack forgotten in the moment, but she didn't try to approach you, “I'm not the only one who was in the wrong, (Y/n).”

“Do you think I cared about your status when I found out the woman I loved married a man behind my back and didn't even fucking tell me! I had to find out in the middle of that stupid ball you wanted to throw so bad after we invaded those rebellion villages. I gave you everything and you betrayed me . I crossed lines for you, Miranda. I thought that would warrant enough decency to be honest with me. I-”

You stopped, your face was hot and you exhaled heavily—doing your best not to sniffle, you hated that you were the type to fucking cry when your emotions bubbled to the surface too fast. Especially when the topic is something you've buried long deep in the dark corners of your mind with no hope for daylight again. You just never thought you'd bump into your past like this. And it's been years since you've had to deal with anything on a personal level after your last child passed away fifty years ago at the tender age of eighty-six.

Miranda saw the emotions playing across your face with a frown but otherwise her own emotions were carefully hidden, she was always better at that than you were, and inched closer, “(Y/n)...”

“We've both obviously lived with this hurt and came out fine,” you cut her off, not looking at her but instead at your bare toes with your hands back in your pockets, “What's closure gonna do besides bring up old hurt?”

“No, that's not it at all, I just...” Miranda coughed lightly and cleared her throat,—your question was valid as she's asked herself this many times before, asking herself why she didn't just let you go in the forest—she could've let you go and saved you both from this reopened wound. But she didn't because she couldn't and Miranda wouldn't apologize for it. Because she's always been a selfish woman, and one of her most selfish needs—even when she first laid eyes on you—she knew that you were hers. That never changed, time could never take that away from her.

“This life is long and lonely, (Y/n)...and I've made many mistakes, most I will never have a chance to atone for...and when I saw you,” Miranda looked into your eyes and bit her bottom lip, you weren't even looking at her anymore, “I've lost so much in this life, and I refused to lose you a second time. The first time I was...I was corrupted with greed and power, but I was stupid and it cost me everything too, (Y/n).”

You looked up, surprised by her words, “He took your kingdom from you, didn't he?”

“ You!” Miranda moved closer, though you hardly noticed because you were focused on her eyes that were duller than they were down in the village but just as clear, bright and brimming with tears, “He took you from me. He took us away from each other, (Y/n). I'm not innocent in it either, I...I could've done something about it, but I didn't and it was the biggest mistake I could've made in my entire existence. And I think about it more than I care to admit, I think about you...wondering what sort of life we could've shared together had I made better choices. I'm...I'm sorry, (Y/n).”

Miranda was close enough to touch you now, and this time she didn't hesitate nor did you pull away when both of her hands cupped your cheeks, making you shiver. “Miranda...”

Miranda's hands tightened on your face, obviously thinking you were about to argue again but you were tired of arguing with her, over this...before she could speak, you took Miranda by surprise and pulled her into a tight embrace, both of your arms around her waist and you caught her when her entire body sagged in your arms. You had no idea what was going to happen after this, but that little piece of you that longed for the closure you never got...began to grow.

“I'll stay.”

#resident evil miranda x reader #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #mother miranda x reader #mother miranda #assassins creed odyssey

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fuzzyturtleflower · 3 years ago

Text

Pete Davidson Date

Warnings:

Mild smut

Panic attack

Comfort fic

Weed

Swearing

You and Pete have known each other for awhile now. You met through your friend groups and regularly attend the same social events. You always look forward to seeing him partially because you find him really attractive and funny but also because you've only recently moved here and he's seems normal compared to alot of people. There had been several occasions that the two of you had gotten particularly close, whether it be sharing a joint and having deep conversations, you ending up on his lap sitting on the couch because there weren't enough seats, or that one time you drunkenly fell asleep on him. As a result you felt a sexual tension building for awhile but you didn't know if he felt the same so you were too shy to make any moves. That was until you had a little too much to drink one night at a party at one of your mutual friends houses. The two of you were out the back alone. He was smoking a blunt and you were feeling a little more confident than usual, he was telling you a story about work and explaining it incredibly as he always does but you couldn't help staring at his lips. He paused and leaned in to kiss you, it felt perfect like the two of you were made for each other you quickly intertwined. He put his thigh in between your legs and you had your fingers in his hair. It had been a few minutes when you swing your leg over to straddle him and you could feel how hard he was which turned you on even more. Then he pulled away, you looked at him confused and a little hurt. He said "aight don't get me wrong y/n you're hot as fuck, and I am so into this right now but I think we're both a little to fucked up". You were taken aback and felt self conscious that maybe he just didn't actually like you the same way but at the same time you really respected what he was saying. You timidly slid off his lap and back onto the porch where you were originally sitting. He took your hand and looked into your eyes. He could tell that you were worried and he said "how about I take you out tomorrow properly when we're both sober" you perked up and agreed to the plans.

The next morning you woke up hungover but excited remembering your arrangements from last night. You were kinda nervous that pete wouldn't remember but when you rolled over to check your phone you had a text from him already "hey, we still good for today?". You quickly tapped back "hi, yeah looking forward to it, let me know when". You had made yourself comfortable in an attempt to recover for later assuming pete would want to do something that night when your phone pings again "cool, pick you up at 12" you checked the time and it was currently 11:25. You launched out of bed assessing the situation in your mirror and decided you would need to shower and wash your hair. While you were waiting for the water to heat you tapped back "see you soon" not wanting to seem high maintenance you thought it best to go along with it.

You huredly showered, did your hair and makeup picked out an outfit and packed your bag miraculously just in time for pete to pull up outside. You saw him out your bedroom window and headed for the door. You opened it to discover pete standing there sheepishly. "Oh hey" you said, "hi, sorry I just think texting or beeping or whatever is kinda rude" you smiled up at him "yeah I think so too". The two of you were in his car driving out of your area and you asked him where you were going. " I don't know about you but I'm fucking dying so I think we need to get some takeout" normally you'd feel too shy to eat on a first date but you felt comfortable around pete. "Please, I have no sugar left in my blood" he chuckled and pulled into a drive through. You took your purse out and he casually took it from you and thew it in the back seat as he started ordering. You were pulling away with your food when he asked if there was anywhere you'd wanna go. "The pier" you responded.

You arrived, grabbed all your food (you both got a little carried away ordering might've had something to do with the weed you'd smoked). You found a spot with a nice view and pigged out. The two of you were chilling out in the sun just talking about everything. It was incredible you felt like you'd known him your whole life. He was just the right balance of sweet but also fully capable of making fun of you. It had been awhile since you'd got there so you decided to take a walk to the beach you walked for ages just smoking and talking it felt like you forgot all your responsibilities. At one point you decided to paddle together. Which somehow turned into you splashing each other and ending up soaked. You thought now would be a good time to head back to the car and on the walk was when pete suggested you come back to his to watch a movie. You happily agreed "what am I gonna do about the fact you soaked me" you questioned "that sounds suggestive" laughed pete, "nah don't worry about it I'll give you something dry".

Thankfully pete's car had leather seats as he drove you back to his place you both sang loudly along with the music not giving a fuck what you sounded like. You got back to his, as he unlocked the door and brought you down the stairs he said "Don't worry my mom and sister are away on vacation I'm not just ignoring their existence". You chuckled and followed him down to his basement which was set up like a separate apartment. You were very complimentary but pete was already set on his task of finding you something to wear. He held up a shirt and some sweatpants "these good?" You nodded and he pointed you towards the bathroom while he went to his bedroom to get changed. You quickly changed into his clothes which were huge on you. You had to use your hair tie to make sure the pants stayed up. You went back out to find Pete sitting on the couch he died laughing the second he saw you "fuck their big" you laughed with him " yeah but I think it'd be weirder if you had clothes that fit me" "true" he smirked "sit down make yourself at home, I'll make us a snack". "That sounds so good" you flopped down next to him as he scrolled through to pick a movie. You pretty quickly agreed on the wolf of wall street. You were both exhausted after all the walking but not long in you were getting pretty close, he had lit up a joint and as he went to hand it to you your eyes met and once again you were all over each other. It was so much more intense than it was last night. It still felt perfect as you put down the joint and straddled him once again. He started kissing down your neck as you pulled at his shirt before long all of your clothes were stripped off. He lifted you up and carried you into his room and layed you on his bed as he lay above you his hand reached down to your breast playing with your nipples in a way that left you breathless. You reached down to stoke his dick and we're slightly shocked by how big it was. His hands made there way down your body he started out rubbing your clit and the slowly put one finger inside you and started stroking just the right spot you could feel yourself getting wetter. You broke the kiss and could hear him moaning in your ear. Not wanting to make him wait any longer you used your other hand to pull his hips into you and guided his dick into your wet cunt. He hissed as he slowly slid into you. He took it slowly to make sure you were okay. This was the point you realised you had underestimated how big he was. It stung as soon as you felt his full length and you could feel your arousal becoming panic. This had happened to you before but you thought you'd gotten better since then. You decided to keep going thinking it would pass but the hotter you got and the more you thought about it the less you realised you were coping. Pete stopped and looked into your eyes which were welling up with tears, he looked concerned "are you okay?" He stopped straight away and pulled out. "Yeah, no I mean I'm sorry" you said and you started to cry. "Hey it's okay you don't have to apologize, are you okay did I do something?". He moved to your side pulling you into a hug. " No it's not you I promise", you realised you were having a panic attack and so did pete. "It's okay you just gotta breath with me okay?" He was just holding you and helping you breath. Eventually you calmed down enough to talk.

"Why don't we put our clothes on and talk hey?" He said. You were really worried you felt like you'd fucked this up entirely. Pete went and got the stuff he'd given you earlier and you both got dressed. He sat back down and said "see? It's way less awkward not naked" you couldn't help but laugh but then you started apologizing and getting flustered and self conscious. "It's okay dude don't worry you had a panic attack it happens to me too" said pete. "Yeah but probably not during sex" you responded. Pete proceeded to tell you several things he'd done during manic episodes making you feel a little better. "Why don't I make that snack and we'll watch the movie? We were just getting to the good part when you interupted" you laughed and you both headed into the living room. Pete brought his duvet and you cuddled up on the sofa while he made some food, the kitchen and living space was open plan so you could both watch the movie. He appeared with a selection of freezer snacks, pizza bagels, garlic bread, and ice cream. You both happily watched the film and ate away. When the movie was over pete said "do you want me to drive you home, I'd be happy for you to stay but I don't want tears on my couch" you laughed and offered to get an Uber you were so embarrassed and thought pete just wanted to get away from you as quickly as possible. He insisted on driving.

The two of you had a big chat in the car you expressed your worries to him and kind of explained the reason for what happened earlier because at this point you really thought you had nothing to loose. He pulled up to your house turned the car off and looked over at you and took your hands. "Don't think that what happened earlier put me off at all if anything I like you better because this means you might be able to handle some of my crazy, and don't think you're getting rid of me because I'm gonna text you tomorrow and make sure you're okay and we're gonna hang out again because I really enjoyed this". This made you so unbelievably happy that you couldn't think to do anything but kiss him the two of you stayed like that for a few minutes before you went inside and layed in bed replaying the whole situation in your head until you fell asleep.

#petedavidson #smut #anxiety

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deans-mind-palace · 4 years ago

Text

Nightcrawler

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Summary: Jensen and you never got along well. But when a stunt accident almost caused him losing you, everything changes. What will Jensen have to say if you wake up?

Word Count: 2,182

Warnings: Description of an accident, Mean!Jensen, Angst, Fluff

Author’s Note: Based on this request. Anonymous: Can I ask a Jensen x fem!reader, where reader is an actress on spn. Jensen kinda hates her (like don’t like her). One day some stunt accident happens on set and reader goes in critical situation. Jensen gets very upset, stays with reader every time from ambulance till hospital. Goes crazy over the reader surprising Jared, Misha and other people on ser since everyone assumed he doesn’t like her. But he ends up confessing to reader at the end and alllll fluffy end?

It was late in the evening, but you had just arrived on the set for your shoot today. It was a night shoot, because the scene had to be shot in the dark outside on the studio grounds. It was a particularly important scene and you were late, so you hurried straight into make-up.

"Look who's late. Again." Jensen greeted you friendly as always. You rolled your eyes. "Mind your own business, Ackles." you were giving back before falling in the chair next to Misha. It was the seat furthest away from the blond actor. Misha sighed after you gave your best friend a quick hug. "I will never understand your hatred for each other." he muttered with a side glance at Jensen, who was now excitedly engrossed in a conversation with Jared and the make-up artist.

The truth was that you and Jensen didn't like each other from the very beginning. In your eyes he was an arrogant ass who looked good and was fully aware of that fact. In his eyes you were a bitch who couldn't understand a joke and was closed off. Neither of you had ever bothered to look behind the façade of the other one. Right on your first day on set you had argued so terribly that the shooting of the scene had to be stopped. When you were told a few weeks ago that you were to play Dean's love interest in the series from now on, the arguments between you had reached their peak.

"So, nervous about shooting tonight?" Misha ripped you out of your thoughts. You took a deep breath and tried to give him a halfway confident smile. "Oh, no. It's okay," you said. Misha saw right through you and gave you an encouraging smile. "I'll be okay. Don't worry about it." Further back you could hear the deep laughter of Jensen and Jared patted him on the shoulder in a brotherly way. You turned your eyes away when Jensen looked over.

A few minutes after your make-up was ready, a young personal assistant also walked into the trailer. "Ms L/N? We need you on set in ten," he reminded you. "Of course, thank you." you smiled. Then he looked at you nervously and fidgeted. Your eyebrows furrowed in wonder. "Can I help you with anything else?" you asked and smiled at the nervous student. "Err... No - Yes. Y-yes. I-I'm a big fan of yours. You're such a great actress and-" Jensen snorted in the background, for which you gave him a deadly look that made the young PA freeze completely, but Jensen was not the least bit bothered. You smiled reassuringly at the PA and granted him his wish for a selfie, then he led you to the set and lectured you for a few more minutes on how great he thought you were. You smiled and nodded from time to time, but you were far too nervous about the upcoming shoot to really listen to him. He didn't seem to notice that.

The spotlights were already set up and radiated the dark area. Cameras were flashing and the car was ready. It was time for the shoot. A bit away, Jensen sat in his chair and watched the action. Technicians hurried across the set. Cameramen were changing settings and the director gave final instructions for the scene.

"Everyone to their places, please!" shouted the director and clapped his hands. You took off your bathrobe and swallowed before stepping on your green mark. Immediately the director approached you. "You ready, Y/N?" he asked you. "This is an important and difficult scene. You must be ready for it because we only have one car, the next one would have to be delivered first." You nodded, unable to put your doubts into words. You wanted to appear professional, damn it! "All right, you know how the scene works? You're standing on the marker. The car, possessed by a demon, is going to race towards you, but you jump aside at the last second because you lure it into a trap and it crashes into the wall behind you. All right?" he went over the sequence of the scene with you again. "Yes." Your voice sounded uncertain, but he didn't seem to notice. "Fine, let's do it." He turned away.

"Light? "Check." "Camera? "Rolling." "Silence on set, please. Scene 17, Take 1. Go!"

As soon as the engine of the car in front of you stuttered to life, the sweat broke out on your forehead. Your fingers trembled, but it appeared as if it was part of your acting. You swallowed and your fingers clenched into fists. "Come on!" you shouted to the possessed car. "Come and get me!" The headlights of the car flickered and it roared a couple of times on the spot. The radio turned up loud and AC/DC's 'Highway to Hell' came out of the speakers, before the tires screeched and spun, and then the car started moving rapidly. Now it was getting serious. When the car crossed the green line, you had to jump to the side onto the green mat.

But the car approached the green line relentlessly and you were frozen like a deer caught in the headlights. Literally. When it reached the green line, you couldn't move a muscle. Immediately, panic broke out around you and the last thing you saw were Jensen's green, wide-open eyes filled with panic before the car hit you.

Suddenly everything happened very quickly. You felt a stabbing pain shoot through your legs as you collided with the bumper. Immediately, you were hurled over the hood, bounced over the roof and hit the ground. Blood ran from your hand and forehead where you had been smashed into the glass. Pain shot through your entire body, then everything went black.

For a split second there was complete silence on the set, then hell broke loose. The director instructed everyone to stay calm, an ambulance was called, but Jensen didn't notice the chaos around him. His gaze was locked on your motionless body as if in a trance. Then he jumped up and started running. Kneeling on the ground, he slid towards you. You had lost consciousness and blood was running from the cuts on your hands. His fingers trembled as he brushed the locks of hair from your face. He would have loved to lay your head in his lap and watched over you until the ambulance arrived, but he knew there was a chance the fall had broken your spine. Your face was pale and smeared with red crimson.

Suddenly he heard yelling in the background. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Misha rushed out of the trailer followed by Jared and ran towards Y/N. Jensen held your bloody hand and stroked your forehead. Your breath was very shallow. He paid no attention to his panicked friend at all. All his attention and concern was only for you. As if in shock, his gaze kept wandering over your wounds. His breathing trembled and with every breath he had the feeling that his chest would burst. Should it end like this? You dying in front of him? Never again your cheeky comments or your bickering in the morning when you arrived late on set again? Would he never be able to make you coffee with too much sugar purposely, because he knew how much you hated sugar in your coffee? Or would he never ever listen to your complaints you always made when you were getting your hair done next to him and he just rolled his eyes? Would he never see the sparkle in your eyes again when a day of shooting was successfully completed? Or would he never feel the joy again when he saw you again after a long break in shooting, even though he would never admit it? A lump formed in his throat and he swallowed. Next to him Jared moved Misha away.

Suddenly, turmoil broke out again. The ambulance hurried to the set and immediately bent down to you. Jensen did not hear their words. But the doctor ordered two paramedics to lay you down on the stretcher. "Sir, you have to let go of her hand now," One of the paramedics told him. "N-no." Jensen shook his head violently. "I-I can't leave her alone." The very thought filled his stomach with nausea. His voice croaked. "I ask you only once more, Sir." But Jensen made no move. Suddenly, Jared grabbed him from behind and pulled him away. Jensen tried to fight back, but he was afraid to cause you more damage. "No! I can't leave her, Jared," he yelled in panic and tried to free himself from the iron grip of his best friend. "Sssh. It's okay, Jensen! It's gonna be okay! They're taking her to the hospital now," Jared explained calmly. But Jensen didn't take his words seriously.

"Let me be with her," Jensen pleaded. "Okay, it's okay, Jay. I'll take you to the hospital." Jensen shook his head. The paramedic cleared his throat because he felt sorry for the distraught man. "Family members are allowed to ride in the ambulance, so..." Even before he had finished the sentence, Jensen had already started running. Shoulder shrugging, Jared looked at the Doctor. "I'll catch up with my friend." He nodded at Misha, who was beside himself. The doctor nodded.

In the car, Jensen had already taken your hand. Gently he stroked the skin with his thumb, careful not to touch any of your wounds. The paramedics put you on all kinds of tubes and you still weren't conscious. Jensen got sick at the sight of all the wires running into your body. All the needles they stuck under your skin. Suddenly the ECG kicked in and your heartbeat started beating flat. "Fractures of the ribs 11 to 12. Craniocerebral trauma. Multiple contusions and a broken leg. Also some superficial lacerations." explained a paramedic. " Her condition is critical. She has sustained severe head injuries and internal bleeding cannot be ruled out. A hematoma is probably already forming. She must go to the O.R. immediately for a trepanation." The paramedic's gaze was serious as the ambulance reached the hospital. The doors of the ambulance were ripped open and the stretcher was taken out. Immediately, the paramedic informed the doctors and nurses of your state of health.

You were immediately taken to an operating room and Jensen was asked to take a seat in the waiting area. He wandered up and down nervously. Soon Misha and Jared arrived. Y/N's family would not arrive in Vancouver until tomorrow afternoon. So you had no family. A few hours later, one of the leading doctors arrived. "Gentlemen. Ms. L/N made it through the operation in good shape. We had to stabilize several fractures with screws and drill a hole in her skull to give the pressure room to dissipate." Jensen went pale. Jared pulled him into the seat next to him so he wouldn't faint. "It'll be a few more hours before she wakes up. She is now under the influence of strong painkillers, but you may see her now," the doctor explained. He gave the room number.

Jared came into the room with a cup of coffee for Jensen. Misha had gone home several hours ago to meet Y/N's parents in the afternoon. But Jensen had not left your side. Jared supplied him with coffee for the third time already and yawned tiredly. It was already 8 a.m. and they hadn't slept all night. "I'm leaving now, Jay. And you should rest too. She's fine. They'll let us know when she wakes up." But Jensen didn't answer. Jared put the coffee on a small table and left the room. Jensen sat by your bed and had trouble keeping his eyes open. The constant beeping of the ECG lulled him in and calmed him down.

When you woke up, your whole body felt numb. The painkillers clouded your mind and you didn't know where you were for a moment until it all came back to you. The accident.

You looked around the white room until your eyes fell on a blond mop of hair. Jensen's head was on your bed. His hand in yours. He had pressed his forehead against your hand in his sleep. Worry overshadowed his sleeping face. You were surprised. Gently you released your wired hand from his grip and stroked his cheek. At once he blinked and jumped up. "Y/N! You are awake! Oh, thank God!" You saw his eyes shimmer with tears of relief. "I thought I had lost you," he said and his voice broke. "Jensen, it's all right," you muttered reassuringly. He nodded, then closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When they opened again the green sparkled intensely.

"Y/N. I'm sorry for what I did. I was an ass. I want to apologize for all this. I acted like an idiot because I didn't know how to handle it, but -" He took a deep breath. "The truth is, I love you, Y/N."

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shawnpetermuffins · 6 years ago

Text

I Miss You

A/n: I hope this is good because I put this off for so long wanting to do it justice. And this is based very loosely off I Miss you.

Summary: you two broke up recently, and it's not sitting well with Shawn, even though he's the reason you broke up.

Requested by @it-isnt-in-myy-blood: Hi, I recently listened to the song 'I Miss you' (Clean Bandit, Julia Michaels). Maybe you could write a fic based on the song, angsty but with a fluff ending? Thank you... ❤️

***

Kinda_yourname

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Kinda_yourname Cabo sunsets >>>> anything else

��

It may have only been a week, but I'm missing it here! 😭

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I shut my phone off and toss it to the end of the bed. I should have been with her on that trip, but tour got in the way. I got in the way. It's crazy to think that if you asked me three weeks ago, I would have said that my girlfriend and I could overcome any obstacle thrown at us. But ask me again a week later, and I would tell you I was wrong. That being away from her for months at a time was too much for me and I broke it off because I thought it would be what was best for both of us in the end.

Now ask me if I still believe that.

I don't.

I haven't told anyone about us yet. I mean, everyone probably suspects because there haven't been Amy preshow FaceTime calls for good luck, and I'm not texting like a madman during dinner or when we're on our way to the venues. And I know she hasn't said anything to anyone either. How? Because for one, she hasn't blocked me on any social media - I know, I've checked at least ten times just within the last two hours. And two, she hasn't deleted the three pictures of us that she has on her Instagram. They're still there for everyone to see, me included.

Now my fingers are hovering over the keyboard and I'm staring at her name on my phone which is still My Love 😍, and I'll probably never change it. Because she is my love, and to strip her of that title because I'm an idiot just isn't fair.

Hey... I miss you

I type and backspace and type and backspace at least ten times. Because I want to text her. I want so badly to text her, but what if she doesn't want to hear from me? I wouldn't blame her if she didn't want to. I was the worst. Breaking up with her over the phone, no less because I was hurting being away from her. Never once did it occur to me that, yeah, she was hurting too. Or maybe she's with someone else. Maybe she's found somebody new. I want her happy, sure. But I selfishly still want to be the one that makes her happy.

Y/n I miss you.

I delete it one last time and open my photo gallery. I have an album saved for photos of us. Photos that I never got to post because she wanted to keep us as private as possible without being a secret. Which is why both of us only have 3 photos of each other on our Instagram. One for our six months, a year, and a year and a half. Two more months and we would have had a fourth picture.

I'm swiping through the photos landing on one I took of her when we were flying back to Canada after our first trip together. We're on a private jet because this was before we went public with our relationship. Andrew made sure that we weren't seen together in the airport or anything. She's sitting in the seat across the aisle from me, legs up to her chest, earphones in, head resting on her knees as she smiles brightly at me. There's another one of us curled up together on this tiny chair in a green room in the UK that Andrew sent me. She's literally curled into a ball on my lap, sleeping peacefully and my legs are spread in front of me, arms wrapped tightly around her body, head resting against the back of the seat.

The next one Brian took. We were at my place for a very impromptu new years party. It was just gonna be me and y/n, but she insisted we invite the guys over. And we did. It was one of the best nights of my life. We're watching the ball drop, with her in my lap, arm around my shoulder. I have one arm behind her back, the other on her thigh. I think Brian knew something was going to happen because at ten seconds to midnight he pulled his phone out and captured out first new years kiss. She's holding my face and I'm practically leaning her back against the couch. It looks like I'm seconds away from crawling on top of her, and it be honest, I probably was. She's just too perfect for me to resist.

Then there's one that Josiah took of us just a few months ago at the studio house. I had y/n on the kitchen counter, she was in these jean shorts that I loved her in and a button up that she'd stolen from my suitcase. Not that I was complaining. It looked far better on her than it did on me. I stood between her legs, my hands on her sides, slipping under the shirt a little bit, leaning her hips exposed. Not that either of u cared with her fingers threaded in my hair as casually as they were. My face is blocked by her figure, but there isn't a doubt in my mind that I was smiling entirely too wide standing between her legs.

The video that follows knocks the breath out of me. She giggling like crazy, but the camera isn't on her, it's on me. On my back, more specifically. She laughs even more when I wince at the feel of her fingers on my red, raw skin that is now home of her fingernail scratches.

"Baby? What happened to your back?" She asked, amused.

"Don't know," I said, turning to face her, my cheeks still holding a slight blush. "But I think the real question is, what happened to your neck, missy?" I pluck the phone from her hands and turn the camera to her where she's trying to cover her face. I manage, however, to take her hands in my free one and the camera focuses on the flourishing bruises that litter her beautiful neck, my favorite place to rest my head.

I close my eyes, the memory of that night filling my mind. Watching her come down from her high, my face still buried between her legs. The weight and cold touch of her hands as she pulled me up to her, into her, because she needed me closer. I can hear myself murmuring the words 'I love you' all over her skin, still remember the way her back arched when I hit the right spot again and again and her finger ran down my back over and over, once more and she probably would have drawn blood. And I may not be home, but I can smell her on the sheets, that constant aroma of warm vanilla penetrating my nostrils. God, do I miss her.

I'm only making it worse for myself by doing this, I know that. But I should feel bad. I lost the greatest thing in my life and I didn't need to. So I got back to our messages, but instead of going to type a new one, I scroll through, reading through our old texts. There's countless paragraphs of us professing our love for each other. Lots of random pictures sent, most from my side. There's conversations about getting a home together, and a dog. And her telling me how much she loves my family and me telling her how much they love her, how much they ask about her. It's all hitting me too hard right now.

And it doesn't help that im literally sobbing at 2 in the morning, in Paris. The city of love. The place she told me was her favorite trip to ever take with me. Where we stood atop the eiffle tower and I gave her a promise ring, a ring that said I would love her and keep her forever. A promise ring that was now probably in the ocean in Cabo because I tore us apart so easily.

I sit up suddenly, struggling to catch my breath. It takes a few minutes, but I'm able to pull myself out of this empty bed that would only be comfortable with y/n laying next to me. I'm scrambling through the room, picking up the pair of jeans I threw off my body earlier and slipping back into them. I find a torn work out shirt in the bottom of my back and push my head and arms through before throwing my youth hoodie over my already overheated upper body. My passport is sitting in my guitar case, and I grab both things without a second thought. My suitcase trailing behind me.

It's difficult booking a flight and carrying a suitcase and guitar all at once, but I get along just well enough and adjust myself in the lobby while I wait for a taxi. I don't text Andrew until I've made it to the airport and am in my seat on the plane, ready for take off.

Emergency... had to fly home. Promise to make it back in time for the Paris show.

And I turn my phone off before he can text or call me back. Because there isn't a damn thing that he could say that would keep me there in a city that's meant for lovers, when my lover is across the world instead of laying in my arms the way she should be.

I know I shouldn't be doing this. I know there is someone out there who is better for her. Someone who isn't constantly on the move. Someone who can come home to her every night and help her make dinner. Someone who can cuddle her until she falls asleep when she's having a particularly bad day. I know there's someone who can do those things.

But I also know that he won't love her the way I do. He won't know all the little things that I do. Like how she only uses a blue toothbrush. Always has. And he won't notice the tiny scar that she has on her right middle finger from when we tried to make dinner together one night and she cut herself. He probably won't know that she wakes up at 3:34 every single night, because she hasn't been able to sleep fully and soundly through the night since she was four years old. And he'll mess up the way she likes her tea, using tea bags instead of leaves. (She like the herbal taste that you get when you use the leaves. And she likes when you do two scoops of them, and two scoops of sugar, but just cane sugar, the rock sugar makes it too earthy. And of course, she drinks it on ice because she hates burning her tongue with hot drinks.)

I'm thinking way too much as I get off the plane, reluctantly turning my phone back on only to see texts from just about everyone I know. They're all asking where I am, but I ignore them, because what I'm about to do is far more important than anything they threaten me with. I have to make things right.

Standing in front of this door that I've stood in front of hundreds of times should make me feel at ease. Remembering all the times I had her pressed against the other side of the door because I just couldn't wait to have her all to myself. But if anything, it's making me more nervous. So nervous that my hands are shaking, palms sweating, my breathing is jagged and I know if I don't knock right now I might never get the chance again and I can't lose her for real this time. So without giving myself the chance to rethink, I knock on the door three times and I wait, handing in the pocket of my hoodie.

I wait a solid thirty seconds, which feel like an eternity, before the door finally opens and I see my beautiful girl. Her face is bare, hair only halfway straightened, and she's in those shorts I love and my old Led Zepplin t-shirt.

"Shawn," my name still sounds like heaven spilling from her lips. "What are you doing here?" She crosses and then uncrosses her arms, shifting her weight from one leg to the other before standing completely straight.

I didn't even realize I was crying until I sniffled and heard my voice crack with just three words, "I miss you."

"Shawn," she shook her head.

"I tried not to," I insisted, still standing like a fool on her door step. "I swear I did. But I couldn't stop. I looked through all our pictures and texts, and I couldn't stop myself from missing you. And I know I have no right to because I broke things off. But I was in Paris and I was miserable because Paris was your favorite place, and that was where I promised to love you forever, and I'm still keeping that promise. I was an idiot," I continue to ramble. "If there's a better word for that, then I'm that too, because I thought it would be easier if I broke things off. This tour was going to be so long and to go that long without each other, I was scared that it wouldn't be enough for you. But it's not what I wanted, y/n. It's not, and I just-"

"Shawn, stop."

I shut my mouth instantly, ready for her to tell me to leave. But what she does instead throws me completely off guard. She pulls me into the apartment and wraps her arms around my neck, burying her head deep in my chest.

"I miss you, too." She mumbles and I exhale slowly, only to inhale that scent that I love so much. The scent that is naturally her. She starts to pull away, and even though I don't want her to, I let her but she only leans back enough to take my face in her hands and before I even have time to blink, her soft lips are on mine and I'm whole again.

She's mine again and I'm never letting her go.

***

Tags: @curlyshawny @shawns-badreputation @anamariel2301 @bbellbagel

This took me longer to write than it should have, but I kinda really like it. I hope you enjoyed and I'll see you Wednesday for more content! 💙

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