#and by that i mean i stare at 3 of them go 'inaccurate he is NOT this vibe'

[wickjump]

a formal thank you to jakei for not blocking me for talking about cross 174832898 times a day. i probably would block me i'm really annoying. any way i very much extremely appreciate you andyour au.hhave a good break your so cool

love wick

[r4fe-cam3ron]

Geta has a random concubine then dismisses her, she is new not his regular. Reader falls pregnant but tells no one fearing she and her child being targeted. She tries to run and somehow geta finds out. He gives chase and promises to protect her and the child.

thank you for this request love!!! i hope i give you something you can enjoy! <3 w; talks of pregnancy and death and m*rder, spoiler free zone, slight ooc geta - happy ending though (also, historically inaccurate omg yall im so sorry)!

it’s been four months and you realize something.

you’ve missed…two important dates. and there’s also something that makes you regret eating - smelling - the fruits and meats that geta so gracefully offers you everyday.

then, glancing in the small mirror of the room you stay in - you pause. the small, barely there, bump catching your eyes.

to anyone, they wouldn’t be able to see it right away. but you know your body better than anyone else.

worrying your bottom lip in between your teeth, your eyes lift from your belly and to your face - slightly more rounded cheeks.

placing a hand on your stomach, a shuddering breath leaves your lips.

you’re carrying a child.

there’s a fleeting emotion of happiness - you’ve always pictured yourself raising a child. you’ve seen others do it and the joy on their faces is one that you could never match.

then it’s sadness. anxiousness.

your hand grips at your side softly before turning away. you could not speak to anyone about this. not even geta - you couldn’t imagine what he would say.

or worse - what his brother would say.

you loved geta, deeply. more than you could ever love yourself you believe. you wouldn’t burden him.

you’d leave.

—

“what do you mean, she’s not in her room?” geta stands from his chair, face scrunched in fury as he stares at the woman who looks as if she’s about to pass out from his tone.

“i-i went inside, emperor, she’s not in her room,” she says once again, voice stumbling over her words and hands shaking. “i don’t know where—”

geta waves a hand, dismissing her, but stepping away himself and out into the stretching hallway. he’s quick on his feet when he steps outside, going to see if he could see anything, but he’s stopped when he sees you being tugged by your arm up the steps.

you look up at him regretfully, before quickly looking away.

“thank you. i’ll take her from here.”

the metal of his rings dig into your bicep when he pulls you up the reminder of the steps - your feet stumbling over themselves as tears threatened to slip down your cheeks.

his chest is heaving - from the walk or anger, you weren’t for sure. but it unsettles you.

entering his room and being dragged towards his bed, he pushes you down onto the plush covers, staring down at you.

you slowly peek up at him, shifting in your spot when you turn your head away.

“you can not leave here. you are mine to keep.” spittle had flew from his mouth, a finger pointing in your direction. the vein in his neck raises below the surface of his pale skin.

you flinch from the loudness — eyes squeezing shut as your head turns. you now feel like the child being scolded.

“i am sorry, geta, i was—”

“that’s not good enough. sorry means nothing to me,” he leans closer. you keep your eyes shut. “open them,”

your spine straightens slightly from his lowered voice. slowly opening your eyes, you look at him through your lashes.

“that is nothing but a mere word to me. apologies mean—”

“i’m with child.” your eyes widen once it spills from your mouth, your own voice unrecognizable. your hand clasps over your own mouth as tears finally spill from your eyes.

geta stares - eyes almost as wide as yours, lips parting like a gaping fish. he then closes his mouth and swallows before slowly lifting from his hunched position. “is that why you were leaving?”

your hand drops from your mouth and to your lap. “yes,” you nod. “i was afraid.”

“of what?”

“you. your brother. the people,” you stand from the bed now. “this is not something they will consider seriously. they’ll burn me,”

that was figuratively and literally speaking. they would find anyway to kill you and the baby in your womb.

“i will not have you be killed either over this. it’s not worth it.”

his face softens at those words, forehead creasing slightly with confusion. “what do you mean?”

“i mean - it’s not worth it,” you repeat with a shake of your head. “i am not worth—”

his hands grab your biceps once again, startling you and effectively cutting your rant short. “you can not tell me how i feel,” he shakes his head. “i will not allow it - especially if it is you saying you are worth nothing—”

“geta, i am nothing but a woman who is—”

“again,” he cuts your words short, brows lifting slightly. “i will not allow it. i will not stand here and let you speak lowly about someone i love.”

your eyes widen, never looking away once. “l-love?”

he waits a moment, but nods. “yes,” he answers curtly. “i do…” he clears his throat. “i have grown to love you more than what i should. more than what feels possible.”

“oh,” you breathe out. geta’s hands drop from your arms quickly, your words throwing him through a big loop. he was for sure—

“i’ve grown quite fond of you as well.” you smile softly.

his heart skips a beat, eyes dropping shut for a moment before they open once again, a smile tugging at his lips. “that’s all i needed to hear,” he cups your jaws and your hands quickly wrap around each wrist, lips pressing into the palm of his right hand.

“we will marry. and you will carry my child.”

“but, caracalla—”

“has nothing to do with this,” he interrupts again. “and will have nothing to do with this. these are my decisions - my responsibilities. not his,”

you hesitate but nod slightly. your bottom lip gets tugged between your teeth as your brows pinch together in thought, staring at where his collarbone sticks out slightly through the robe.

his thumb pressing beside the corner of your mouth slightly, dropping his chin to catch your eye. “what’s running through that mind of yours, love?”

lifting your eyes, you release the hold on your bottom lip. “do you really love me?”

geta smiles then - truly - and it’s the most breathtaking thing you’ve ever seen. “…i’ve grown quite fond of you.” he repeats your words, making your smile grow and cheeks begin to hurt.

[maccaronimassacre]

Going to a haunted house with them <3

Ada Wong

Can tell when something is about to happen moments before it does.

A slightly uneven floorboard? A prop is going to drop from the ceiling.

A small hole in the wall? A scare actor is going to jumpscare the two of you.

Would she tell you though? Absolutely not.

She finds your reactions too adorable and makes a mental note to take some pictures for later down the road.

Ada isn’t a screamer though. She’d either gasp very loudly or stiffen up like a tree.

She enjoyed it though and decides to search for more horror attractions around the area to go to with you.

Chris Redfield

You constantly had to remind him that nothing bad will happen and it’s all staged.

That doesn’t stop Chris from being over protective anyway by constantly shielding you whenever a prop would pop up to jumpscare you.

Even a sudden loud noise and Chris has his arms wrapped around you like a bear.

That is until he sees how shitty all the props and costumes are and he starts to roast them.

“Who made zombies green? Are you seeing this shit, babe? You know I used to punch through these like they were cardboard-”

He ends up rambling about how inaccurate the monsters are but overall has a good time.

Claire Redfield

Would be screaming with you most likely.

The type to spend most of it laughing out of fear but also enjoyment. Mostly fear though.

Claire would definitely hype you up if you got too freaked out and would drag you along the whole journey.

Or similarly to Chris she would be roasting the shit out of all the props in the house.

With Claire’s track record the two of you end up in a completely different part of the house that you definitely should not be in.

She tried to climb through the windows and gaps the scare actors are in.

Probably ends in the two of you getting kicked out but Claire manages to steal one of the props as a souvenir.

Ethan Winters

Considering this man looked at spider Maguerite and said “well that’s special” I feel like he wouldn’t be fazed at all.

Would also find your reactions amusing and occasionally tease you for it.

Tries to touch everything or figure out the mechanics of each room

He’d give the scare actors his iconic 500 yard stare whenever they would try to jumpscare him.

He would hold your hand through out the whole thing though.

But as soon as Ethan hears a chainsaw he is bolting and screaming like his life depends on it.

Also bugs.

And with bugs means lots of swearing.

Leon Kennedy

Would pretend to be unfazed for the most part but internally he is screaming.

He promises to protect you from the spooky ghosts and zombies.

He would tease you constantly whenever you got spooked but would immediately eat shit afterwards.

“Aww did that scare you? Honestly you wouldn't last a day at my-”

He’s immediately cut off by his own scream after someone grabs his shoulder.

Holds your hand to ‘make sure you don’t get lost by wandering off’ but really he needs you for support.

Leon really hates clowns though.

If he spots one its either getting roundhouse kicked or he’s turning around and never coming back.

[rose-lunaire]

Hi!! How you think Hannibal and Will (separate) in a situation where the reader is a nurse and for some reason she finds with them and both falls madly in love with her? Like they follow her, admired her and simply adore her??

brace yourselves, ‘cause it’s gonna be a long one! thank you so much for this idea, i had a great time writing this, enjoy <3

pairing: wiill graham x reader, hannibal lecter x reader

warnings: stalking themes, a lot of blood and inaccurate medical descriptions

(Y/B/T - your blood type)

hannibal lecter

it was a really nasty case, bodies carelessly abandoned in a forest, like a beast haven’t finished feasting on them

by the time hannibal and will arrived, it had already turned into a bloodbath

the culprit, ambushed in his agony, shot at the fbis weakest link: the two consultants

the older man suffered a concussion and wills leg was repeatedly pierced by bullets

it was jack who rushed the to the hospital, knowing damn well it would take hours for any ambulance to arrive

hannibal kept insisting he’s fine, but the policeman was having none of it

he collapsed on the hospital floor

the man woke up to the rhythmic sounds of the operational room: monotone beeping, a clock idly signaling its presence

“you gave us quite the scare, doctor lecter”

a soft timbre brought his closer to consciousness, but an excruciating headache soon followed

torn between slumber and awareness, he groaned quietly

“doctor lecter? can you hear me, doctor lecter?”

the voice soothed his aching body, poured life and yearning into his soul

he squinted his eyes, as from a blur of white light came to life an angel

hair of raphael’s venus, rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes worthy of rubens’s paintbrush, steady and powerful pose of velasquez’s infants

they were perfect like doryphoros or artemis of versailles, sculpted by apollonius himself

the stoic warmth radiating from their eyes couldn’t compare to debussy’s finest works

hannibal felt the sudden urge to take this light with him and never let go

to protect and worship it like gods of ancient times

his killings are not in vain, they are a token of adoration, a promise for a better world

for them

for so the angel wouldn’t have to suffer existing in between such impure souls

he’s always on the lookout for any people in their environment who might have foul intentions

he’s eternally great full to have met them and shows his feelings in subtle ways, like leaving home-cooked meals for them, a note full of gratitude always attached to the gift

he once used his connections to move them to a different department, so that they wouldn’t have to work so hard

they’re his muse, his god(ddes) and he’s just a lowly apostle

he wouldn’t dare bring them into his world, it was too cruel, too dangerous for such a radiant creature

but believe me, he’s always there, a loyal knight guarding their safety and happiness

will graham

he was losing a lot of blood

one of the bullets came through his leg, cutting through his aorta and no amount of pressure could stop the bleeding

his mind was getting fuzzy, but still stuck in painful awareness

he remembered having been sat on a bed, the sting of a needle and helplessness in the voice of a surgeon

“we don’t have enough type y/b/t blood for the operation”

as the anesthesia was wearing out, will felt an unfamiliar presence next to him

calm and unsuspecting, a nurse was sleeping in the corner of the operation room

he finds himself attached to a blood transfusion set

will rested his head in his hands, tired and almost ashamed

the nurse had their sleeve harshly tugged on the forearm with a welt straining their delicate skin

he perceives himself as repulsive and unworthy, yet they gave up their own blood without any hesitation

he’s deeply moved by their dedication

he can’t seem to draw his eyes away

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to stare” - he panicked

“don’t worry about it”

they were graceful even in exhaustion, it send chills down wills spine

maybe it was a crease they a smile painted on their face or the eyes scrunched in kindness and warmth, he didn’t know but in that moment he fell in love

he would ask a million questions about the equipment and the surgery, then their daily life and work

it brought him peace and reassurance and the conversation seemed to flow naturally for hours

after he left the hospital, he often called them

a confusing wound? he calls. a drug found on the scene? he calls. hannibal is hosting a dinner party? he calls every time

his heart is desperate for closure and they provided it, never asking questions, just being there for him

there was one time when a dog got severe diarrhea and vomited a lot, and will was scared it may be parvo or other dangerous dog disease

he called almost immediately, for help and comfort of his favorite person

after this incident he became paranoid when they weren’t around, so he does everything in his power to keep them at arms length

will means no harm, but he simply can’t imagine his life without them

[ivystoryweaver]

With You part 3

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Summary: Jake Lockley has finally met you. What does he think of you, and will he, or Marc, give you any answers?

Pairings: Marc Spector x reader, Jake Lockley x reader (implied Steven Grant x reader). Gender neutral reader. No use of Y/N. Reader is engaged to Marc and Steven.

Word Count: 3k

Warnings/notables: Angst, comfort, references to drinking and alcoholism but it doesn’t happen here, sex but the language is not explicit and no gender-specific body parts mentioned, nightmare, brief crying, cursing, assumptions, longing, feeling inadequate, Khonshu is mean here yall, somebody hug marc spector. Let me know if I missed a warning. Probably inaccurate DID, based on the show.

Dividers by saradika

PREVIOUSLY, on “With You”...

Jake could live without Marc and Steven knowing about him. He’d lived that way all this time, but you were something else. He hadn’t wanted to meet you like this. He had screwed up, and now you were only worried about Marc. He was worried too, honestly.

Now you would never want to know him.

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” Jake decided, by which he was effectively deciding to do nothing. He may be able to eliminate the vilest creatures under night’s shadow, but trying to explain to you that he was the reason your fiancé obliterated his sobriety...

Jake didn’t fear anything. In fact, as the streets of London descended from depraved men to monstrous supernatural threats, he relished his role as Khonshu’s vengeful fist. Someone had to do it, and Jake was suited to the task.

A creature of the night, he savored the quiet, cool leather interior of his car as much as the dingy London air whipping through his white cape. And the more challenging his vicious foes, the more Jake reveled in it. He protected people. That was his sole purpose.

Including Marc and Steven.

So the fact that he somehow missed Marc tossing back a bottle of whiskey and upsetting you in the process, well - if he couldn’t protect you and his alters, then he had no reason to exist. 

So, time for bed. He would fade into darkness and you would get back who you really wanted.

Reaching to scoop up each item of clothing he had discarded, with none of this explained aloud to you, he turned to flee.

“Wait,” you pleaded, blocking his pathway out of the bedroom, your hands reaching out to push back gently against the pile in his arms. His gaze fell on yours - open, yet unreadable. Not menacing, but not to be bothered. His eyes didn’t flicker away like Marc’s. He stared you down, waiting.

 “Just wait a second, Jake,” you found yourself whispering, a bit transfixed. “Where do you usually sleep?”

Lips parting in anticipation, your heart did some clichéd somersaulting as he tore his eyes from yours and nodded to your bed.

���You sleep with me?” You clarified, dumbfounded.

Dark eyes flickered momentarily down to your mouth. His tongue swiped over the fullness of his bottom lip before dragging it between his teeth.

“I sleep with you.” 

The rich timbre of his voice electrified you.

“Only so you can wake up with them.”

Air rushed out of you in a mildly dramatic exhale. What was this man doing to you? 

“Please,” you whispered, unsure of what you were even asking him. Mostly, you didn’t want to be without them. You had waited all night, terrified. “Don’t go. I was so worried.”

Eyes narrowing suspiciously, Jake nodded once. He knew what you needed, and it wasn’t him.

Ten minutes later, after what was, for you, an unbearable silence, Jake climbed into bed with you. Having washed up and making his well-fitting ensemble disappear somehow (where did he keep his clothes?), he decided on Steven’s soft pajamas. The sleeves sagged adorably, covering his hands, but Jake’s fingers didn’t fidget like his alter’s. 

How many times had he done this? Pretended to be them? And were you okay with it? Was it even really your business? It was his body too. 

The lights remained off from before, allowing you the cover of darkness to ease under the blankets, as if acting in a play. 

If Marc were with you, he would pull your back against his chest, folding you close until either your body relaxed, or until his lips breathed salacious words on your ear while his hand slipped between your legs. Either that, or he would bury his face in your tummy, the way he had done that morning. That, too, often ended up with him between your legs. 

For Steven, it was the crook of your neck, latched on to you like a koala. After years of sleeping poorly, or trying his damndest to stay awake and not “sleepwalk”, nothing soothed him more than your soft skin and reassuring arms. He marvelously discovered that, with you, he had no trouble falling asleep at all. For Steven, the mornings were when he needed you most. The two of you would race to the bathroom, playfully fighting over who would freshen up first before tumbling back into bed, where he would be sure to end up between your legs. 

But here, now, Jake was a statue. 

You were Marc and Steven’s whole world. Jake knew he had fucked up enough for one week. There was no way he was moving one millimeter in this bed. Hopefully, the warm surge in this heart would settle to the soothing sound of your breathing. That was his balm - you were his anchor. After the cracking of bones and the wailing of night’s creatures deafening his ears - the gentle rise and fall of your chest in the night was his lullaby.

But he didn’t dare touch you. You weren’t his. 

Sometimes you attached yourself to him the night, or maybe he only dreamed that you did. He was never him when sleep ended.

Feeling the tension rolling off you, the urge to somehow alleviate your worries taunted him. But he was certain he didn’t even possess the ability to soothe, only to punish.

So he said nothing. He did nothing. He waited for sleep.

“Jake...” As you turned to him, your sweet voice crawled up his neck, intoxicating him utterly. “Would it be okay if I held your hand?”

The memory of your smooth skin was seared into his memory from the featherlight kiss he’d given your knuckles. He didn’t even hesitate to grasp for you in the dark, tangling his fingers with yours.

Pressing your face to the soft fabric covering his shoulder, you, undeniably realistic you, accepted this real moment. You wanted answers. You wanted a lot of things. He gave you his hand. You took what was here, now.

“I’m glad to know you, Jake,” you whispered, your heavy eyes sliding closed, despite everything. Squeezing his fingers, and swiping your thumb softly along his, you added, “I hope you’ll come back to me soon.”

You woke up to a mess of chocolate curls buried in your stomach.

Marc. 

Your sweet, tormented angel. 

There was a slight chance it wasn’t Marc, but the familiar whimpers of a nightmare gave him away even more than tummy cuddles. 

“Shhh,” you soothed, raking your fingernails through his messy waves. “I’ve got you.”

He squeezed you, murmuring, “No,” brokenly before whimpering again. His nightmares weren’t flailing arms and shouts like in films. They were this: soft, pleading mumbles and anguished pleas.

With a sudden change in his breath, he was awake, eyes darting wildly as he climbed his way up your body, hands checking you frantically.

“Right here, baby,” you murmured, eyes soft and full of love. He looked so broken, you wanted to cry, while desire simultaneously ripped up your spine. Whatever this man of yours needed, you were going to give him, likely, to your great pleasure and benefit. Win-win. 

“You’re here,” he repeated, gathering you in his strong arms as the weight of his body crushed you in the most delicious way. “I dreamed you were gone. You left, or...or someone took you away from me.”

“Never,” you uttered with conviction, pressing your lips to the corner of his jaw, opening your mouth to breathe hotly before kissing a trail to his ear. “I’ll never let that happen. I’ll burn down the whole world first.”

A choked sob erupted from his chest as he whispered your name. Fusing his lips with yours, his fingers gripped your jaw desperately as if he feared you would quite literally slip through them.

Responding to the press of his body like a partner in a well-rehearsed dance, your legs fell open, ready to feel the heat of him consuming you. His mouth hadn’t left yours, but his thick fingers dragged (his) t-shirt up your torso and over your head.

Only then, when your lips parted, did his dark, desperate gaze lock onto yours. “Need you,” he groaned, his voice tinged with the slight beg you associated with Steven.

Surging forward, you met his furious kiss with equal hunger, pushing under his soft pajamas, pulling, dragging until your naked limbs were tangled, pressing and pulling in desperate passion. 

“You’re mine,” he growled, deep inside you, claiming you, as if you had any doubt or desire to be apart from him. “He can’t h-have you. I won’t let him.”

You were oddly turned on by the idea that maybe he sounded jealous of Jake, who had merely held your hand in the dark.

He didn’t mean Jake.

In fact, he wasn’t even aware you’d held an audience with his mysterious alter.

No, he meant the twisted, deceitful, formidable Egyptian god of the moon, to whom he remained enslaved. The one who took you away in his dream.

The things Marc was doing to your body - you could barely think straight. Your back arched in pleasure, your fingers clawing at the sculpted muscles of his back, desperate to somehow bring him even closer to you. 

“I’m yours,” you gasped, realizing with the deep moan that followed, that you didn’t really have control over your voice at this point.

“Mine,” he repeated, as you drowned in him, and he in you. 

After a long, hot shower together, filled with salacious kisses and some very naughty handiwork, the two of you finally made it to the kitchen. Just like in bed, you danced around one another with practiced ease, as if perfectly executing the blocking of a play. Your hand reached for the coffee grounds, while he readied the filter. He found the bread while you produced his favorite jam.

Shoulders rubbed and soft smiles were exchanged, eyes longingly dancing, locking and flittering away to the tasks at hand. 

“Thank you,” he finally said, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple, “for this morning.”

You almost teased him for thanking you for what you two did quite regularly in bed, but you knew what he meant. Whatever anchor he’d needed this morning, you were it. 

Still, you were a cheeky one, as Steven frequently reminded you... “I should be thanking you, baby,” you innocently purred. “That thing you did...when you turned me over, holy shit--”

“Okay, okay,” he laughed out, motioning for you to get back to breakfast, as if he would ever actually order you about. “You and your dirty mind, I swear to god.” 

You laughed out delightedly. “That’s rich, Mr. Spector.”

One of his dark eyebrows shot up. “Call me ‘Mr. Spector’ again and I’ll take you right back in there,” he playfully warned. 

Tempting. 

The toast popped up to interrupt the two of you, giving Marc’s thoughts just enough time to drift back to much more serious matters. He wanted to be with you all day today. He knew Steven had class at uni and you had work - he didn’t care. He needed you to know things.

“Hey, um...” he started, before you could make another quip about Mr. Spector or the bedroom, “I...I meant to tell you...” reaching up to rub the back of his neck, he swallowed nervously. “I--there’s another bottle. In the flat.” 

Bracing his hands on the countertop, his head dropped. It was hard to look at you when he thought he might disappoint you. “I wasn’t trying to hide it, I just...that night, I...”

Reaching over, you laid your hand over his, there on the counter’s edge. “Thank you for letting me know. Do you want to tell me where it is?”

His eyes darted over to yours and he swallowed hard. “The low shelf, down by the edge of that old table I haven’t fixed yet.”

Ah yes, the ‘don’t throw it out, I can fix it’ project that was cluttering your living room. Steven collected books; Marc collected abandoned, broken things...

“Hm,” you hummed thoughtfully, “Steven’s reading chair is right there. He’s going to figure this out, you know.”

“I know,” Marc quickly responded. “I think I wanted him to. Or you. I don’t know...” He didn’t wait for any sympathy. There was too much to tell you before he completely train wrecked his entire life.

“Something happened,” he pressed on, determined. Then he told you. Head bowed, hands gripping the counter, he explained.

You remained completely still at first, but you noticed that the more you acted normal, the easier it was for him to talk. So you finished the coffee, slathered the toast with jam, and walked everything to the tiny table at the kitchen’s edge, where the two of you loved to share your favorite meal almost every single day.

He had fronted a few days ago. It was dark, cold. He was outside, in an unlit, ominously quiet alley. He didn’t know where he was. Steven wasn’t there with him. He reached for his phone and shook with horror at the white bandage-looking material wrapped around his hands. Realizing his face was covered with a mask, he started to panic when the fabric quickly receded, leaving him gasping.

His body was covered in Moon Knight’s mummified wrap. 

“No, no, no, no,” he cried, forgetting, for a moment, that he could simply will the suit away, and clawing at the material instead. 

Then he heard it. Him.

“Marc Spector,” the booming voice of Khonshu splintered through his mind, wracking his body with terror. 

“No, NO,” Marc shouted, climbing to his feet and pressing his palms into his forehead. “You’re gone. I don’t belong to you anymore!” 

He ran, clinging to control of the body, determined not to allow Khonshu anywhere near Steven. Or you. 

The old god’s skeletal form appeared on various rooftops, following and taunting Marc, his voice eerie and all consuming, as if the bird were nearly shouting into his ear. 

“Run away if you can. This body doesn’t belong to you,” the voice taunted. 

“Leave me alone!” Marc shouted, but it came out as more of a whimper, like trying to scream for help in a dream. “We had a deal!” He halted, banging his fists against his head as if it would make the ancient being simply evaporate. 

But the spiteful deity scoffed, turning his bony back as if done with the conversation. Turning his menacing beak back toward the puny one in control of his avatar, he replied, “Lockley is mine, and so are you.”

Then he vanished. 

Just the relief of the god disappearing urged Marc’s legs forward, stumbling through angry tears until he reached your home. You were at work. He paced the flat, tugging his hands through his hair, desperate to keep Steven in the dark. 

“It can’t be,” he gasped, over and over again, trying to convince himself. “We’re free. We made a deal. We’re free.” This overwhelm would normally bring Steven to the front, but Marc held on, pacing himself to exhaustion. He was asleep on the couch by the time you came home. 

You woke up to Steven. And while you worked your next shift, he bought the whiskey. 

He waited another day to drink it.

“I thought maybe...I wondered if I had completely lost my mind,” he uttered, finishing his story, now seated at the kitchen table.

Easing off your chair, you knelt in front of your fiancé, setting your palms gently on his thighs.

“Don’t say that.”

“No, I mean really,” he went on, his hands covering your own, grasping at your fingers. “I thought...what if all this time, Khonshu was in my head? Like...part of me.”

“Like another alter?” you questioned, peering up at him.

“Maybe. I started wondering about all of this Moon Knight bullshit--if it even really happened. And, now there’s this Lockley...” Trailing off he sighed, defeated. 

Okay, progress was happening. Might as well get it all out in the open. 

“I met him, you know,” you carefully admitted, smoothing your thumb over his as you waited for his reaction. “Lockley.”

“Shit,” he rasped, gripping your hands desperately. “He was here, with you? What did he say?”

“Not much,” you admitted. “His name is Jake. Jake Lockley. He was here last night.”

“Here in the flat?”

“Yes. Late last night. He came in through the bedroom window like Spider-Man or something. We talked for a minute, he told me his name and then we went to bed. I didn’t really find out that much about him.”

Releasing your fingers, Marc sat up straight in his kitchen chair, his eyes darkening possessively. “He went to bed with you?”

Hm. You could have worded that better. “Marc, I--”

“Did he touch you?” His jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck straining as his dark eyes burned turbulently. 

“It wasn’t like that,” you protested, quickly climbing up off the ground to stand in front of him. Caressing his face tenderly, you shook your head. “I wanted to talk to him - to see what the hell is going on. He seemed worried about you drinking.”

“You talked to him about that?” Marc pushed off his chair then, pacing across the kitchen and back. “I haven’t even talked to him yet.” 

Fair enough. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, it just came out,” you confessed, giving him a little space, while pushing down your urge to grab him. “Jake was about to leave, and I wanted some answers. I wanted you all here with me. He came home so late, Marc, and your phone was dead. I was so fucking scared...”

Your breath hitched as tears clouded your eyes. “You’ve been so upset, and the drinking... Steven doesn’t have any idea what’s going on and then this Jake uses the damn window in the middle of the night and I thought he was going to leave, and go back out in the night, with no phone. I wanted you here, Marc, so...so I asked him to stay. I asked him if he knew what was going on, or why you had been drinking--”

“Okay, baby, okay,” he conceded, reaching for your shoulders to bring you close. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault.”

The two of you held one another in the middle of your drafty little kitchen, the shared answers between you only raising more questions. 

“I think you should talk to Steven,” you suggested gently, “if you feel ready.”

Resting his forehead against yours, he rubbed your back soothingly. “Yeah. And maybe...maybe Jake too.”

tags requested @rivalriotrenegade @wordacadabra

[queenpiranhadon]

A/N: I find it hilarious that this is Bakugou x Reader and he's not even in like 1/3 of the series LMAO Big thanks to our resident beta reader @cashmoneyyysstuff srlsy dunno how she thought I was cool enough to follow ily 😭 Here's the masterlist!

Warning(s): Cursing, reader is the daughter of Aizawa, Shinso and Eri are biological siblings, Shinso is a year younger than reader, reader is 20 years old, afab!reader, reader's mother is dead, medieval fantasy setting, reader cries a lot, reader started sword fighting at age six, reader passes out from crying, reader drugs her family (JUST HEAR ME OUT LMAO- I DON'T CONDONE STUFF LIKE THAT BUT ITS FOR THE PLOT), bad explanations of anesthetics, reader's nickname is Cactus and Warrior, slight spoilers of the actual show/manga, mentions of crossdressing (it's probably inaccurate, idk man I'm not really experienced with this sorta stuff lol).

Pairing(s): Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴏ: Bruises

“I have bad news.” 

In that moment, you’re pretty sure you felt your heart stop. 

You sat there, frozen, unable to move as everyone else at the table starts talking immediately, asking your father was the issue was. 

Yet his eyes remained on you, inky coals transfixed on you, unwavering, boring into your soul as if waiting, watching to see what you’d do next. 

Your mind tries to wander, briefly remembering the last time your father said that, the slight pain in his seemingly empty eyes and his strained tone of voice. The last time those words were uttered, your mother died. 

No. 

Now wasn’t the time for that. Now was the time to protect your family, like you always have. Your feelings weren’t important now.  

You notice your father rub his index finger against the underside of his thumb, a code you knew to mean retreat. In this case, he wanted to go outside to talk to you, alone. 

The table goes silent as you stand up with a word, worried glances being sent you way. Smiling reassuringly at them, you make your way around the table to the door, spinning around to squeeze Ejiro’s shoulder as he was the closest to you and make eye contact with your brother.  

“Toshi, you’re in charge in the meantime- make sure everyone has enough to eat alright?” you ask, and he hums in agreement, but narrows his eyes, a look that means you’re telling me everything once you’re done. 

You chose to ignore that, turning around again to exit your home to meet your father who was waiting for you outside.  

Shutting the door behind you, you see him staring up at the starless sky, covered by clouds and most likely smoke from fires made to provide warmth with the coming winter.  

You join him on the steps of your porch, staring up into the night sky with him. It was poetic in a way, the loss of the stars in the sky reminded you of the man by your side.  

Shota Aizawa was a swordsman, and one of the finest in the kingdom of Bellorant. Since you were six, he used to teach you, much to your mother’s annoyance. She didn’t want you near anything of the sort, especially when you returned one day covered in bruises, saying "Shota, she’s six! She needs to grow to be a lady, not a soldier or a fighter. She doesn’t need to grow up around violence.” 

Yet he still taught you, teaching you ancient sword techniques and sparred with you on occasion, but you never won – unless he let you. Every time, he would stop you at the most spontaneous moments, you could be in the middle of a heated spar when he rubbed his index finger against his thumb, retreat. It was like he had a sixth sense, knowing exactly when your mother would be home, and when she walked through the front door, you would be helping your father with preparing dinner.  

It was your secret, only for the two of you.  

At least for four years. After your mother had passed away, your father basically fell apart, refusing to teach you as an unspoken promise to your mother following her death.  

He could barely look at a sword the same way after he lost both his leg and your mother, like the starless sky - you knew it was possible, yet it seemed wrong. Your father was as empty without his swords as the sky was without stars. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask, your voice betraying you, coming out as a shaky whisper.  

The raven-haired man sucks in a breath, refusing to look at you, not saying anything, The silence was deafening and suffocating, as waves of anxiety rack your brain and your heart rate picks up.  

What in the world could be so bad that he can’t even look you in the eye?! 

“I’m being enlisted into the army. The roundup is tomorrow at dawn.” 

Time stops right then and there. You feel your heart drop. You couldn’t lose him, you couldn’t. Sending him out there was suicide, and he knew it.  

He couldn’t do this to you, not after losing your mother. You needed him, he was all you had left to prevent you from tearing yourself apart from the inside. He was the loose string in the fabric that held everything together but was easily able to be pulled away in the blink of an eye.  

You didn’t realize you were crying until a rough hand comes up and brushes a few tears from your face.  

“You have to be strong my warrior.” he whispers softly, the name hitting you harder than it should’ve.  

He hadn’t called you that since the last time you trained together.  

Words fail you, but he understands, holding you tight as the dam breaks, unshed tears falling as years of suffocating pain and stress release you in the form of salty tears that drip down your cheeks and soak into your father’s shirt.  

You were going to be all alone again.  

Just the thought brings even more tears to your eyes, heaving sobs so powerful that you can’t breathe, there’s just too much and you can’t take it anymore, but you have to.  

You have to, for Hitoshi and Eri. If nothing else, do it for them.  

*** 

You’re not sure when you passed out, but you come to lying in your bed, your dad probably carried you.  

Your throat feels dry, and your eyes burn. Shivering and burying yourself in your blankets, your heart sinks as the situation dawns on you. 

Taking in a shaky deep breath you think, like you always have. Thinking about how to fix a problem that seemed so big that you could never fix it.  

But there was always a way.  

You tried to remember the last time enlistments happened. It wasn’t the first time your father has been in a war, neither had it been for many of the men in your village. But the rest of the village wasn’t battling a severe disability and trying to cope with even more severe mental health issues.  

As per the crown’s decree, the terms for enlistment were the oldest able-bodied man from each household would be sent to join the army out of loyalty for their country.  

That didn’t make sense- considering that your father was far from able bodied...shit.  

The alternative would’ve been HItoshi. Your father, knowing this, probably created a loophole, saying that the makeshift wooden prosthetic Chiyo provided from him considered the man able bodied, saving Hitoshi from the hardships of war he’d have to endure either way.  

Bastard. You curse mentally, somewhat towards your father but mostly at the situation at hand. Shota Aizawa was an intuitive man, and knew exactly how to manipulate a situation to get what he wants. This trait, both helpful and infuriating was one that was passed down to you, which explained how you could read people well enough to know their intentions.

But you knew that right now, what you needed was both your father and Hitoshi, at some, safe.  

And for that to happen, you needed some third Aizawa son to step in and take the burden from them both.  

Then it hit you, maybe there was.  

Cross dressing wasn’t a completely new subject to you- you remembered when you and Ochako snuck into a pub one night, dressed as two boys so no men would try to make a move on either of you.  

Maybe it would work again.  

Creeping out of your room, you see that everyone’s gone to bed. For once, you’re thankful that you do all the chores around the house, tip toeing into the room where you washed and dried all your clothes, spotting the basket of unfolded clean clothes that needed to be put away.  

Sifting through its contents, you find what you were looking for: a yellowed white tunic and some thick black pants that belong to your brother.  

Perfect. 

This was all going according to plan.  

Depositing the clothes in your room, you go into the washroom, finding the medicine cabinet where all Eri’s concoctions lived.  

You wince, knowing this was technically drugging your family against their will, but you get to work, finding the balm used for sleep. 

Sneaking into Hitoshi’s room first, you take some of the balm, rubbing the substance against your fingertips before rubbing it gently against the skin that covered his temple, herbs that were said to have magical properties allowed a light dosage of melatonin into the neural system.  

You felt his body relax, all the tenseness gone from his frame, and you kiss his forehead softly, a tear pricking your eye. 

You might never see him again.  

“I love you Hitoshi.” you murmur, stroking his hair before doing the same for your father and sister both sound asleep, and they would be for the next twelve hours.  

Fingering the paper in your hands, you bring it up to your lips, a final blessing from you before putting the letter addressed to your family on the dining table.  

It was almost dawn, grabbing the roll of bandages from the washroom and wrapping your torso with it to make your chest flatter. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, but you persisted, knowing that it would only be a minor inconvienience in the long run. 

Slipping your brother’s clothes on, you tie your hair into a wolf’s knot, a hairstyle that your father taught you himself, the mark of a warrior. Slipping on Hitoshi’s shoes, you grab the worn picture of your family ten years ago, looking at it, your mother’s face, and your father’s happy one. Now he’d at least be alive to have the chance to feel like that again

You put the photo in your satchel, along with the dagger you used to train with, and the diary Ejiro gifted you when you were thirteen. It was very thick, enough to only be half filled from 7 years of your living, but then again you never really used it back then. Well, that was going to change now, determined to leave your family and friends a little more than a rushed letter if you die.  

Holy shit.  

You could die.  

The thought had never properly struck you until now, and yet, you didn’t feel dread. You just understood the grim truth that if it wasn’t you, it would be Hitoshi or your dad, and it were more than happy to put your life on the line for them.  

You see the sun’s ray start to peak out of the horizon, eyes sweeping your home one last time before closing the door, hand staying on the doorknob for a split second longer than you should’ve, as it trying to subconsciously memorize how it feels. 

One step by one, you make your way down the steps of your porch, the same ones you sat on the night before where you cried your heart out in your father’s arms.  

That seemed so long ago, yet only a few seconds ago at the same time.  

You make your way down the cobblestone path, down to the center of the village, spotting men from the imperial palace with their scrolls condemning their people to death.  

You swallow down the pit in your stomach, taking a deep breath and joining the crowd of men that gathered around.  

Goodbye, home.  

Taglist: @andysdrafts @starieq @nemisimp @missa-archdevilme @coquettefoxxy

@032loe @icedemon1314 @fta1ask4 @iam-thevillain-of-thisstory @cuppalevi

@touyasprettydoll @slayfics @yeehawgiddyup13 @notjustanotherextra @frvv

@naoyasbby @sweetblueworm @isentsworld @bkgpackets @moonnm

@bkgrl @satoruyes @eyesforbkg @juicyfingers @aejabba

@noodleryworld @yui-aya @ashiblossom @rv19 @wheezdostuff

@yannvi @liluvtojineteyam @ah-mya @surprisemodafakas

@kksmush @sagejin @cax-per @kit-katsukii

[aetherdoesthings]

hello! good night! i was scrolling down and i saw your post about requests... and i was going to ask if i could do one even though i didnt follow you before realizing you were the luffy angst writter!!! that i follow for that series/three-shot!!! anyways;

could you do something about a reader (f! or gn! reader, the one you prefer) getting a tattoo? (a tramp stamp to be more specific, if you can) with robin, shanks, luffy and crocodile? it can be platonic or romantic/suggestive! i had the idea of getting one for a little while and i couldnt resist the temptation of having some thoughts w/them...

thank you very much! i love your writing! 💖

elo aequarea! thank you for the compliment 🫶🏻🫶🏻! unfortunately i've put the luffy angst fic on hiatus until i decide to finish off y/n fate.

forethoughts: sickness update- i can breathe through my nose now! but i got a stupid cough and sore throat still :(. yes i'm still sick and writing with a migraine. thanks for all the wishes and lovely messages you've given me <3! going back to sleep after posting this.

notes: this is my first time writing for shanks and crocodile, so apologies if inaccurate or not good. all gn!reader, smut-ish for crocodile and robin.

Robin

When you told Robin you wanted a tramp stamp, she didn’t make any comments, and only wanted to know your reason behind it. She saw her fair share of tramp stamps back at her time in Baroque Works; she wasn’t shocked at the concept of it. She was rather intrigued at your desire to have one.

After learning why you wanted one, she grabbed her stuff, and took you to the tattoo shop to get one for you.

She knew you weren’t that good with pain, so the entire time you were getting your tattoo, you squeezed her hand, while she nonchalantly read a book. 

Robin didn’t care that her fingers were turning purple, she was reading her book.

She’d occasionally smile at you and give you some words of encouragement, squeezing your hand back before getting back to her book.

Once you were done, she’d coo you and help you recover, making sure it doesn’t get infected or smushed, giving you the best tattoo aftercare ever.

Once it was fully healed, she’d use it to tease you, brushing a finger over it, knowing you’re sensitive in that area. She’d tease the living daylight out of you in bed, making you cry out her name to stop the teasing.

Shanks

Shanks would first be confused by what a tramp stamp is, but once he digs into his memory, he remembers what it is and what it means.

He’d 100% want to choose the design or be a part of choosing the design because if he’s going to stare at it all day, he’d want it to be a beautiful sight.

As you’re getting your tattoo, he’s by your side, telling you a bunch of stories about his days on sea, trying to distract you from the needles poking into your skin. 

He ignores your cries and screams and his fingers turning purple simply by raising his voice over your screams.

Once you were done with your tattoo, Shanks immediately turned into a father figure, caring for you and treating your tattoo until it was fully healed.

Once it was fully healed, he’d always make sure to make a comment about it, especially in bed. He’d show it off to his crew and friends, boasting about how his partner got a tramp stamp for him (you did not get a tramp stamp for him).

All in all, Shanks adores the tattoo and loves it on your body, and maybe if you convince him with two bottles of alcohol in his system, he might get one too.

Luffy

100% when you tell Luffy you want to get a tramp stamp he’s gonna get it with you.

Boy doesn’t even know what it is, he just wants to match with you and get the same tramp stamp.

When it’s time to get it, he sits on the chair next to you, holding your hand to comfort you as you were both getting the tramp stamp. 

Little did you know he’d be the one squeezing the blood out of your fingers when the tattoo started.

For someone who’s fought a warlord and the World Government, he was squirming in his seat, waiting for the tattoo to end. 

Once it did end, he was thrilled and hyped, since the two of you got matching tattoos.

Oh, the poor Straw Hats who had to listen to Luffy yap about the tramp stamp and how it matches with yours.

Crocodile

Crocodile really didn’t care when you told him you wanted a tramp stamp. He was busy with his work, still trying to take down Alabasta and making sure it was a foolproof plan. 

He wasn’t also a fan of getting a tramp stamp, since he knew what it meant and he didn’t want the world to know his partner was associated with promiscuity.

He relented eventually, after you brought Miss All Sunday to join the argument, as Crocodile had no choice but to let you get the tramp stamp.

You went to the shop with Miss All Sunday, since Crocodile didn’t want to be seen with you inside a tattoo shop getting a tramp stamp, but he didn’t want you to go alone with you would be in danger, so he sent Miss All Sunday to go with you.

You got the tattoo with the woman, talking about some random things to pass the time. 

Once you were done,  you showed Crocodile, who initially had a strong reluctance in the tattoo.

But now that you got it, he was in love with the tattoo. He loves to use his hook to grab your waist, running the hook against your tattoo, loving your reaction and how it looked against your skin.

Yes he will use his hook to grab your waist while he’s pumping into you from behind and calling you a whore and living up to your tattoo.

[cranberrymoons]

speak a little louder

prompt: mutual pining (@steddieholidaydrabbles) rated: t word count: 673 words tags: fluff, flirting, nerds in a basement

welcome to Day 3 of the fic advent calendar – bite-sized fics posting every day during the month of december. enjoy!

The campaign lasts all day.

That’s what they call it – a campaign – as if it’s an actual military coup and not what it really is, which is a bunch of teenage nerds sitting around a table in Mike Wheeler’s basement with sodas and a bag full of dice. 

Steve is used to it by now, but he doesn’t expect to have to wait for a whole extra hour when he shows up to collect them, but here he is, sitting on the couch in the corner and staring at the ceiling while he listens to Eddie drone on and on about elves or some shit.

Well – drone is maybe sort of an inaccurate word, considering how into it Eddie’s getting, crouched on his seat like a gargoyle, talking with his hands, doing the voices. It’s actually kind of fun to watch, and Steve is maybe sort of pretending not to find it as interesting as he does, because he has a reputation to maintain, dammit, and he refuses to be drawn in by the spark in Eddie’s eye or the flush on his cheeks or the way his fingers weave strands of the story across the table.

Whatever. Steve doesn’t even care.

“Sorry about that,” Eddie says when it finally wraps up, when he’s climbed off his chair and is standing in front of Steve while the kids bicker over something and take their sweet time packing their things. “Couldn’t stop in the middle, they would’ve killed me.”

He reaches behind his ear for a cigarette stuck there, and Steve stares at the way his rings catch the light as his hand moves. 

“No problem,” he says. He clears his throat. “Hey, can I –” 

He nods his head toward the cigarette, and Eddie raises his eyebrows, holding it out.

“Bum a smoke?” he asks. “Sure, Harrington. Anything for the valiant babysitter.”

Steve smiles as he accepts it from him, and he tries to ignore the way his stomach flips when their fingers brush. 

“Thanks.”

---

They take them upstairs, outside to wait for the kids, and it’s starting to get cold enough now that Steve has to flip up the collar of his jacket against the chill as soon as they step onto the porch. 

“That was cool back there,” he says around the filter clenched in his teeth as he ducks his head to light the cigarette. “The thing, or whatever.”

Eddie eyes him for a moment, then flicks ash onto the ground. “It was like… the metric opposite of cool, but thanks anyway.”

Steve laughs. “Still. It looked fun.”

“You should join us sometime,” Eddie says. He clears his throat. “I mean… if you want.”

And Steve can’t help it; even on top of everything big and scary going on in his chest right now, the idea of actually playing the fantasy math nerd game sounds like –

“I don’t know,” he says, shaking his head. “I think I’ll leave that one to the pros.”

Eddie laughs a little. “Oh, we’re pros now?”

“You managed to save the elf. I think. Sounds pretty professional to me. I couldn’t save an elf.”

Eddie gives him a look. “There wasn’t even an elf in that part of the campaign. I think you’re just making shit up.”

Steve laughs too at that. “Yeah, I had… no idea what you were doing. But the kids seemed into it.”

“So what are you into, then?” Eddie asks. “If not nerd shit, then what?”

You , Steve wants to say. Mostly these days, I’m just into you .

He takes a breath. “I don’t know,” he says instead. “I don’t mind the fantasy stuff. It’s the math part I have issues with.”

Eddie smiles a little. “Then take the numbers out of it. Come watch a movie with me sometime. I bet we can find some kind of nerd thing for you to be into.”

Steve feels his stomach give another little jolt as he stubs out his cigarette. “Yeah, I bet we can.”

[also on ao3]

[readychilledwine]

Flight Patterns Part 2

Summary - After years of hushed whispers and leads, Azriel has finally found Cassian's lost sister, Aerilyn. What he found with her was unexpected, though.

Warnings - Slight power abuse, mentions of trauma and scars. Scene jumping to ensure I got two of the dragons introduced.

A/N- We are getting a fairly calm Aerilyn in this part since they are doing everything they can to make her feel comfortable and safe, but Caged animals tend to be the most dangerous. This is also going to give us a peek at her and Rhysand and the incoming slow burn between them. The next few parts will flow smoother, but still have some jumps to ensure I get the dragons introduced quickly. Only next time might be Rhys seeing one up close. 🫠

Edited to add - my brain is not getting me the euphoria I like to have when I post, please do not be surprised if I edit this before posting part 3.. maybe I looked at it too long, maybe I'm being critical of myself, but we be here 🙃

Word Count - 4970

Part 1 Part 3

Aerilyn did not know what to think of the small being in front of her. Her first instinct was to laugh, but she held it in picking up on her less than amused body language as the male she knew from somewhere spoke to her. They'd been communicating back and forth in her first tongue for over an hour, but it was clearly something the other female struggled with. A dead language she had called it. 

Now she was testing Aerilyn's ability to speak common. "Rhys said you knew letters but cannot speak to me in this language," her voice drawled out. 

Inaccurate, Aerilyn thought to herself. But we can play this game for a little while. She cocked a brow, blinking in faked confusion. 

The female rolled her eyes. "I told them you'd be a lost cause. Feral beasts are best left to other beasts." She blinked again, knitting her brows together. She stored the insult in her mind for later, ignoring the heat pooling in her blood to bite back. 

She did know this. She had tricked the male in her head well if he thought she had less education than a child. "I assume you don't know your name then?"

"Ari," she whispered. "Name Ari."

The female nodded. "So you can understand me but not speak the language I'm speaking?" She blinked blindly again, grinning internally when silver eyes rolled in annoyance. "I will inform the High Lord." The small fae left with her arms crossed and Aerilyn sighed. She walked out the balcony, staring at the city far below her and admiring the pretty sparkling lights. 

She'd only ever seen a village from dragon back as they moved from place to place in search of food and safety. 

Her childhood with them and their riders had been happy. Filled with laughter and adventure. Until they made the mistake of traveling across the continent. 

Rumors had reached their ears of a city that would welcome riders and their drakes. Aerilyn and her mount had been left behind to guard the mountain they currently held shelter in, and one by one 6 other winged beasts returned to her. Riderless and in mourning. She was still young at that point, barely into her adulthood, and was now tasked with learning to control 6 other mounts on top of her own. 

She whistled softly 4 times, she knew they were near. And the wind shifted rotation before lightning stuck high in the clouds, revealing a large body and ever faithful wings gliding.

-

"I'd just throw her back in the woods," Mor stated. "She had 4 drakes, and we have no clue what they can do. Do you really think having her here is safe?"

Cassian growled, his fist closing tightly under the table. "She's my sister."

Azriel avoided his gaze, jaw slightly clenched as he stated the one fact they all knew. "She's dangerous and a liability. We can't even speak to her to tell her we mean her and them no harm."

Amren rolled her eyes. "I think she's lying about that. I think she can speak common. I think she chooses not to. Just as all riders have throughout the history of time."

Amren shifted as all eyes landed on her. "She knew I was asking her name. Her accent is thick and heavy, but she pronounced everything clearly instead of struggling through it like a truly uneducated and mute fae would."

Cassian shook his head at Amren in disbelief. "She lived in the woods, Am. There's no way-"

"She speaks a completely dead language last used by dragon riders," Amren cut him off, annoyance slipping into her tone as she stared at the general as if he had gone stupid overnight. "She is somehow alive after her wings were cut so deeply that parts of her skin were still attached. Or did you forget the condition you received them at your feet in?" Amren turned her head to the window as a flash of lightning appeared from nowhere. "She may have been alone when you found her, but she wasn't always alone."

Rhysand jumped as a loud crash of thunder shook the mountain. "It wasn't supposed to rain today," Azriel said slowly as he moved towards the window. "We need to warn people to get inside. Look at how dark the clouds are." 

Amren's eyes went to the clouds, a small smirk on her face. "We're about to see one of the beasts in her arsenal. Might want to go calm your little mate, Rhysand"

Rhys shook his head. "Velaris is shielded from magic. My people and court are safe."

Mor spoke softly, a reminder to everyone in the room. "Not all drakes attack with magic, Rhys. Some can use the elements. Summoning the storm was the only magic it used, and the shield doesn't stop weather. Now, it gets to control the severity of it." 

As if confirming Morrigan's warning, lightning struck Ramiel and thunder shook the ground again as rumble fell from the mountain top. The jaws of the three Illyrian males all twitched. 

The sky became a show of lights as heavy rain began to pound down on the court, gathering faster than the ground and Sindra would be able to handle it. "It's going to flood the court," Mor realized slowly. "We are trapped in the valley of a mountain, Rhys. It's going to flood the court until it gets her back."

Rhys went up the stairs, rage fueling every step as Cassian kept pace with him.

Aerilyn jumped from where she stood near the balcony, watching as her true mount showed the Night Court not even a fraction of what he could do and a glimpse of the destruction he could bring. She knew he could level this little city, but had asked him not to through their bond. 

Rhysand gripped her arm, turning her so quickly her head spun and pointed to the sky with his brows raised as if he expected her to answer. She cocked her head to him, blinking twice before pulling her arm from his grasp and moving towards Cassian faking fear. "What is your beast doing?" Rhysand growled at her, his eyes blazing with fury she had never seen or felt before. She didn't answer and he exploded.

"What the fuck is happening to my court?!" The demand in his voice had Aerilyn almost trembling. "What in the fuck is that thing doing?!"

She stared at him doe eyed, moving closer into the protection Cassian offered and keeping up her act. "Rhys, stop, she clearly doesn't understand you."

The High Lord looked enraged. Yanking the bond so hard Aerilyn released a small scream and fell to her knees. Cassian knelt to her immediately, craddling her head and holding her close to him. He had never felt powerless because of Rhysand, but he did now. "Call. It. Off." He growled at her. "Call your damned beast off before I kill it."

She held her chest, eyes wide as she looked between Rhys and Cassian. The High Lord's eyes softened temporarily, realizing his mate had no clue what that string was. Anger came back to him as another round of lightning stuck closer to the House of Wind. 

Aerilyn knew that was a warning. A loud warning that if he hurt her again, if he shouted at her again, if he even detected fear down their sacred connect, the gates to hell would be opened, and death would follow. 

Rhys went to the balcony, opening it and bracing himself as winds whipped and rain pelted him. He began to watch the sky, watching for any sign of the beast hiding in those dark clouds. A flash of light allowed him to have eyes on it, and he turned to his mate, finger pointed to where he now knew the dragon was hovering. He offered one last time, "Call of the drake, or I will blood Mist him."

Aerilyn looked between him and Cassian. Her brother's jaw was tight. "Rhysand, she doesn't understand. It is protecting her."

"And I'm protecting my fae and home," Rhysand growled to his general. "A home you also swore to protect, Cassian. Remember your place."

Cassian stood, his eyes narrowing. "Isn't my place at your side, brother?"

Rhys put his hand down, realizing the error in his sentence. "Cassian-"

"Don't bother." The illyrian male knelt back down to his sister.

"Please," she whispered. "Don't hurt him." Cassian's face fell slightly. "Gentle. Kind." Aerilyn was still playing her cards. Knowing she could not drop the faked persona until she knew one of them was going to protect her, until she knew one of them would return her. "Scared."

Cassian placed a large hand on her cheek. "You or the dragon?"

Her brows knit. "Both," Rhysand said slowly. "They're both afraid." The High Lord caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, realizing now how much he behaved like his father in this incident. 

The rain lightened up at Aerilyn's command. Her mound came closer to the balcony, but still far enough away to prevent any physical attacks. Aerilyn moved to the balcony, and Rhys and Cassian both watched as her face fell into deep sadness. "Enlil," her hand went out and the dragon approached, getting close enough to her palm to allow her to touch his muzzle.

The males both immediately noted two things:

The first was that this dragon was truly a work of art. A large scaled body that appeared grey, but those scales had began to reflect the lights and surroundings, hiding him within plain sight to anyone looking. He had wings that Rhys could only describe as being similar to painted glass as gentle light passed through them. Even his ice blue eyes were beautiful, and shockingly to them both, filled with love and worship towards the female hugging him.

The second thing they noted was where Aerilyn and Enlil were touching was glowing with a faint blue light. It was as if the contact between them was a sign of magic. And to Rhysand's horror, he realized it was. He knew enough about dragon's and their riders to know this was a bond formed between their souls. His mate was this dragon's true mount. 

And that meant had he misted this dragon, he would have killed her too. 

The dragon could live without the rider, the rider could not live without the dragon. That bond was too fragile, too sacred, too powerful.

Rhys approached slowly, holding a hand back to Cassian. He knew drakes could understand the languages of the fae, and made an offer. "There is a cave, in the mountain," he pointed to it. "It used to be a dragon pit back when the Night Court had riders in their armies. It can comfortably fit 14 dragons." 

The drake seemed to understand his offer, those crystalline eyes flicking back to his rider. "You can bring your hoards of treasures and other friends there, you will be safe there as she is here."

Rhysand dropped the scent ward he had on their mating bond, allowing the drake to sniff it out. He flew back slightly, sparing one last look towards Aerilyn and turned the rain to no more than a light Mist before flying away. 

Rhys motioned for his mate to enter the room again and shut the balcony doors. He hid the hurt in his heart as Aerilyn tucked herself into Cassian's side again, using him as her shield. 

A shield from him.

Rhysand's shoulders fell in defeat. "I need to know what I welcomed into my court."

Aerilyn just simply tucked further into Cassian's side, her soaked hair dripping onto the hardwood floor below her as she shivered. 

Rhys nodded, closing his eyes, and walked out of the door. Amren, Azriel, and Mor all waited in the hall. "Amren, I need you to find books of the different types of drakes, preferably with pictures." The ancient being nodded and immediately left to go to work. "Azriel, how many were actually in the cave?" The shadowsinger didn't answer, his jaw set in a clenched hold. "I realize I fucked up, Azriel. I don't need you to tell me how badly. I already know."

"She has 7 total dragons in her possession. They all look different." He reported back calmly what his shadows had discovered. Azriel went to the door, knocking before entering. He greeted Cassian and Ari softly before shutting the door behind him.

Mor looked at Rhys. "You have to fix that." 

The male nodded. "I will. After he calms her down and gets her to sleep."

-

Cassian held Aerilyn tight after he made her change into different warm clothing. She couldn't help but cuddle closer into him. 

It was familiar, and she knew that. She knew his scent, his smile. She knew what he was to her, and she to him. 

He placed a long kiss on her temple, a prayer going to any God that listened one more time as he wrapped a large wing around her. No words passed between the siblings, and no words needed to. 

Her eyelids began to feel heavy quickly as his calloused hands began a long forgotten motion, running through her hair and scratching her scalp in all the right places. 

"You're safe, sis," Cassian mumbled, falling into a light sleep of his own. "No one will ever hurt you again."

-

The inner circle sat at the dinner table, waiting for at least Cassian to appear. 

Azriel was the last to see the siblings. He had said she was fine, just shaken up. Cassian he had not mentioned. 

They heard a set of foot steps approach the room and Cassian entered silently. He took the plate from the place that had been set near Rhys to force proximity and moved it further down the table. He began taking food without permission from the High Lord and ate in silence. 

Azriel began to eat as well, not wishing to push a clearly angry male to speak. Mor looked down then to Rhys, her eyes pleading with him to fix the situation. 

"Cassian," Rhysand started slowly. The general grunted in response. "Is she okay?"

Cassian set his fork down. "Considering you threatened the only thing she's known as family for the past 300 years? Sure, Rhys, she's fine. She trusts us so much already." Cassian went back to eating, effectively ending any conversation before it could begin. 

Rhys just looked down, pushing his own food around on his plate. He could feel she was heavily asleep, that her dreams were pleasant. "It was attacking my court, our home."

Cassian looked up at him slowly. "Because we kidnapped her from them and theirs. Because she doesn't feel safe and somehow that thing knows through the bond they share."

Amren's interest peaked, "She's bonded to one?" Rhys and Cassian both nodded. Amren just settled into her chair, silver eyes now ablaze with excitement. The ancient being sipped the liquid in her glass, a small smirk forming. "Woo her, Rhysand. That dragon will only leave if she dies, and if they were a pack, you could now have 7 damn near indestructible beasts at your whim."

Cassian pushed his plate away, standing and leaving the table.

The undeniable smell of anger was radiating off of his skin and tainting the air. Rhys felt his shoulders fall in defeat. 

Cassian never left the table without finishing his meals.

He did tonight.

-

Aerilyn woke up to the sun shining in her room and the smell of something bitter. She wrinkled her nose as she sat up and caught sight of the short haired male who originally found her.

He was sitting in her room, looking out the balcony, a cup with steam rising from it in hand. He had a thick book resting on his lap and parchment on a table next to him.

Azriel raised his hand to her, motioning for her to come closer with a single finger. 

She stood next to him, following where that finger now pointed. In a deep gentle voice he asked her, "Name?"

A solid black dragon with scales like spilled oil was sitting at the entrance of the cave put Rhys has allowed them access to. They were on shifts, watching her room perfectly from that ledge, and protecting each other. "Achlys." 

Azriel nodded and held the book. "Type?"

Aerilyn went through the pages, doing her best to focus on pictures instead of reading. She finally reached the page regarding drakes of poison and pointed. Azriel pales slightly before adding the gentle giant to his started list. Under Enlil was pages to books and his power type. Now, under Achlys name was pages referring her. 

He had 5 more spots set, but did not push her. He held the mug filled with the bitter black liquid up to her. "Try it."

She took the mug, fingers grazing his scarred hands and sniffed it. She took a tiny sip before looking at Azriel with a look of absolute devastation and betrayal. 

Azriel couldn't help but to let out a loud laugh as he saw her eyes going wide, her bottom lip pouting out, and her nose scrunching. He took the mug from her and pulled out a separate parchment piece. 

It has her name on the top along with little observations he's made regarding her. Under dislikes he added "Black Coffee," with an amused smile. 

"Mean," she glared at him as he continued to laugh. Azriel faked insult and put his hand to his chest. Aerilyn couldn't help the sympathy flowing through her as she took on of his hands in hers. "Fire?" He just nodded, allowing her to study them. 

Aerilyn wanted to drop the act. She wanted to ask who did this to him, where they were now, but she couldn't.  She settled with kissing his palm. 

Azriel moved to her closet when she was done. Picking a soft two piece outfit for her. He spoke slowly to her, trying to ensure she understood. "Change and then food."

Her stomach made a noise of agreement and he laughed again, leaving the room to allow her to change from the t-shirt Cassian had been wearing yesterday. The clothing left little to the imagination. It was a deep plum color, but the fabric was sheer. The top dipped low in the front and ended before her navel, the long sleeves were sheer. The matching pants were also fairly sheer after the modesty paneling that would prevent her from being exposed. 

Azriel entered the room as if knowing she was changed and immediately took her hand, pulling her into the hallway.

Aerilyn's mouth began to water as they went down the stairs, and her stomach made an when louder noise that had the male pausing, sending her a small look of sympathy, before continuing.

The house was stunning. Lavish furniture, golden balcony and lanterns. It was the most expensive place she had ever been, granted most of her days were spent in a cave surrounded by beasts and their individual hoards. 

Azriel pulled her into a dinning room where the inner circle all sat waiting for him. "Brought a friend to breakfast," he said simply as they all stared in shock. He pulled a chair out for her, sitting her down across from Cassian before moving to sit next to her. 

He began to pile food onto a plate, occasionally putting something under her nose to smell and only adding it if she nodded. Eggs, hashbrowns, bacon, and countless fruits now sat on her plate. 

He gave her the option of water and some dark purple color liquid that smelled like berries. 

Cassian offered her a small smile. "No coffee?"

Azriel didn't freely give them the smiles he had been handing her. "Tried that. She looked at me like I just stolen everything warm and wonderful in her world."

A beautiful blonde laughed lightly. "Well you either drink coffee one or two ways, Azriel. Black or loaded with caramel and sugar. Balance is needed, Az!"

The room fell into hushed silence as the male who stood on the other end of the string Aerilyn had been studying entered. 

He stared at her for a brief moment, his lips almost giving into a twitch and his eyes softening. He continued his walk to the head of the table and sat. "Good morning." A chorus of "Mornings" welcomed him as he began to take food. He looked directly at Aerilyn, "Man erin"

"Man Erin," she whispered back. 

"Eat." Rhysand said to everyone. "We have a long day ahead of us."

Rhys and Aerilyn kept glancing at each other as they ate. One looking away when the other would notice them. She felt herself slightly flushing under his gaze, feelings she'd never had beginning to mix with the fear she felt towards him.

He was beautiful. Incredibly beautiful. Dark hair, a chiseled face, tanned skin. His eyes felt like starlight. 

She wanted to map those eyes, log them like the ancient kings, watching them for hours until they were all they knew.

Rhys also felt emotions mixing with what he knew what physical attraction. The twins had done well cleaning her and allowing her features to be seen. Long dark hair fell into waves down to the curve of her ass that Rhysand wanted to sink his teeth into. Her high cheekbones and delicate jawline framed lush blush lips and eyes like melted chocolate. 

She would be easy to physically fall in love with, and if he could woo her, if he could drop his pride long enough to open vulnerability between the two of them, maybe it would be easy for him to emotionally fall for her as well.

-

Cassian and Azriel led Aerilyn out of the House of Wind to an open area filled with sparing dummies. Cassian was radiating, he had been since the two shadow wraiths changed her into the training leathers she saw Illyrian warriors wearing when she'd spy on the camps. He had been since he inspected her perfected braided hair that was tucked and twisted to keep it out of her face and prevent it from being a target. 

He had been since he saw his sister, exactly as she should have been.

Azriel moved away from them, setting something else up and then sat and waited for Rhysand. She knew he was joining them. Cassian pulled her to a table filled with battle maps and empty parchment as if it was his favorite personal space and he began to write.

Can you read? His handwriting was sharp almost as if he moved his hands like he was dicing an enemy with a knife instead of handling a pen.

"Yes," Aerilyn said.

Cassian rose a brow. You know what yes and no means?

"Yes."

He nodded a small smirk forming. Do you know how to fight?

Aerilyn looked at him, her own dark brows raising as Rhys and Azriel made their way over. She took the pen from Cassian, shocking the three of them. I fly dragons. I had to learn to fight.

Rhys sucked in a breath. "You can read and write." She nodded at him. "You just can't speak our language." 

She wrote again, lying through her teeth still for reasons she was forgetting as today's kindness had become an almost comfort, all of them studying her like hawks that found prey. Never made it that far. Letters in your language have too many sounds. And there's weird bull shit rules. Like "to, two, and too." Who uses 3 words that's letters should all sound the same creating the same word 3 times but for some reason they all evidently mean something else? 

Azriel closed his eyes, hiding a laugh with a cough and cleared his throat. "Yup. Definitely Cassian's sister. Makes what you two are doing next possibly easier, though." 

Rhysand picked at his leathers, trying to remain indifferent despite the joy flooding both him and Aerilyn. He went into her mind again, finding one pathway that wasn't a mess of trauma and mistrust. He began following it to see if he could figure out what all Aerilyn knew. Her thoughts were in several languages with an occasional one in common tongue. Ancient Ruskian, the Old tongue, the language of the long lost elves, and several others.

A slow realization hit him and he looked at his brothers immediately expressing it to them in their minds. "You were not alone in those woods, were you?"

Aerilyn kept her eyes locked on the parchment, shaking her head. Can we just get the fighting over with? I don't want to talk about that.

Cassian almost began to bounce, beaming with excitement and joy. "After we warm and run, sunshine," he ruffled her hair as her face dropped completely.

No one said running would be involved. Aerilyn immediately turned towards the door, only to be stopped by Cassian quickly ripping her back and turning her to throw her over his shoulder. "No way, little one. You are not getting out of this, Aerilyn."

Aerilyn looked at Rhys, eyes pleading. "Please?" Her voice reminded him of red aged wine. Sultry, sweet, capable of convincing him to spend all of his money.

He wanted to give into her, to give into those big chocolate brown eyes begging him to stop this from happening, but they needed a baseline or her knowledge in everything to keep her safe, even if that safety one day was no longer with him. 

He sighed heavily. "I'm sorry, darling. It is for your best interest."

Aerilyn collapsed 30 minutes later onto the training mat. They were trying to kill her. Rhysand sat next to her, lightly laughing as he handed her water. 

Aerilyn hated cardio. She had always hated cardio. She did not even understand why cardio was a thing. She took the water, taking a drink before rolling to her stomach and laying in defeat. 

Rhys poked her side, "I think she is done, Cassian." He could feel it through the bond, read it in her body language. He admired the pieces of her hair that had fallen from the braids. He watched her chest rising and falling. She had taken off the longer sleeved training shirt a while ago, exposing her toned arms and back in the tanktop. Despite the tanned skin, a peek of white was showing. A peek of a scar was showing. 

She stiffened as he moved the shirt more and he blanched. 

No care had been taken when her wings were removed. Deep thick scarred skin sat where her wing should have been. Cassian froze when he saw them as well, the night that her small wings where thrown to his feet immediately coming to the forefront of his mind. 

Aerilyn moved away, standing with her back to the three of them, her posture began caving in on itself as her mind screamed insecurities at her. 

She knew of beauty standards. She knew scars were not considered beautiful, and despite not being raised in normal society, she wanted to be beautiful. She wanted to be seen as beautiful. 

She backed away as tears began to fall. "It's okay," Rhys moved to her, speaking softly. "It's okay, Ari."

She shook her head before breaking into a run into the house. Shadows followed her as Cassian stopped Rhys from following. "Give her a second," the general kept repeating.

But how was he supposed to give her a second? How was Rhys supposed to let his mate lock herself in her room and be alone? 

How was he supposed to leave her alone when she didn't believe she was beautiful?

A loud roar broke them all from their trance and their heads snapped to the opening near the mountain. Azriel began to back away, panic and fear setting into him as a large red and gold bodied drake flew towards Aerilyn's balcony. 

They didn't need her to tell them what kind of beast that was nor the destruction it could bring. 

They all already knew, and this confirmed a deep set fear they had. 

Aerilyn had access to a fire Drake. 

Rhysand put himself between Azriel and where the dragon flew. 

"No one speaks a word of this. Knowledge that there is a fire Drake does not leave our boarders. I do not want to deal with Beron anytime soon. It's bad enough we already have to hide the Storm Drake from Tamlin."

Cassian released a shaking breath. "What happens if this all comes out, Rhysand?"

The High Lord shook his head, his mind reeling. "You will lose your sister, I will lose my mate, and those poor beasts that simply want to live and protect her will be hunted or used until their deaths. We keep it quiet to keep them safe."

The three brothers nodded as the flame dragon began to fly back to the cave, something sparkling in its claws.

Azriel, despite his fear, let out a small laugh. "It took a lantern." 

The statement broke the tension that had been building between the three males since her arrival. Cassian's loud booming laughter lead to Rhysand's own deep chuckles, and then Azriel's own rang out joining them. 

Aerilyn appeared seconds later, a guilty look on her teary face. Her hands clasped in front of her, and she rocked back and forth. Her small motions made their laughter increase and soon her own bell-like giggles started. 

She realized slowly, watching the three of them laugh and feeling Rhysand's unadulterated love for the two other males, and the sheer happiness he felt, that she could get used to this. She walked to Azriel, the book on drakes and his sheet in hand to the table and wrote a few simple words. "Hestia. Fire Drake. Likes gems and gold." 

Translation - Man Erin - "Good morning"

Tag list: @kemillyfreitas @jesssicapaniagua @elijahssuit @biancabldss @hellwantfuckme @justdreamstars @ladybirdbeetle7 @amygdtjhddzvb

**Tumblr was being odd and would not allow me to actually tag a few people. I'm looking into it! If you'd like to be added to the taglist, please let me know 💜

[prettypei]

hii i enjoy your writing! may i request fluff drabbles for gojo, choso, yuta, noritoshi (kamo from the kyoto school) and hajime (aka kashimo the turquoise haired pikachu) please? like he's in an established relationship with reader and they're out on a cute date, being domestic and behaving like an old married couple. some ideas: ikea, grocery shopping, aquarium, art gallery, science museum/observatory etc

bonus if there are sweet romantic moments~ i'm fine with either fem or gender neutral reader, thank you i hope you'll consider my request! i just need something comforting to read bc shibuya arc has started in the anime while the manga is kinda at a tensed climax rn and i feel stressed lmao

plot: cute dates/domestic couple thingys with them!; fluff

reader: gn! Reader

characters: gojo, yuuta, choso, kashimo, kamo

warnings: yuutas kinda mean in this (but in a yuuta way)

(a/n): first req!!!!!! Hi hello anon I hope u like it 💪💪💪 gojo’s bento is very stereotypical Japanese LOL…KAMO IS SRSLY UNDERRATED!!!! Erm I also have like zero knowledge of flowers so sorry if it’s inaccurate, KAMOS IS SUPER CHEESY ENDING GBHBHJHHJHJH

✰CHOSO

Choso loves art. But he doesn’t only love art, he also loves you. So when you suggested to take him to the art museum for a date, he was overjoyed by the thought. But… he was embarrassed that you would see his drawings of you, so he hid it discreetly in his bag when you went to the museum. Yes, he paints you. Sketches you, even. But he’s way too shy to admit it, because god, he could never capture the way your eyes glinted or the way your smile stood out or the expression of pure bliss when he kissed you… he tries to avoid drawing you, but he can’t. You’re in every thought of his. And now, he’s trying to hide his notebook from you. He’s hugging it close to his chest, hiding it under his book bag as he mimicked the painting in front of him. It was a simple one, really…but it looked like it was missing something. He thought for a minute and his brain clicked. It was missing you. You would fit perfectly into it, since your eye color would stand out splendidly. He just finished drawing your face before… “whatcha doing?” He stumbles and knocks over his collection of colored pencils over the bench he was sitting on. “Nothing.” “Are you drawing something? Can I see it?” You ask excitedly. And honestly, could he ever say no to you? He mumbled a bit as he gave the book to you and started picking up the colored pencils, and you were surprised to see your own face staring back at you. “Is-is this me?” You smile. You flip through the book, and you noticed how your face was on almost every page. Choso looks up with a flustered face. “I-well-kinda? Yeah?” You drop down to the floor and hug him. “You’re so cute.” You mumble with a grin on your face. If he had known this would’ve made you like this he would’ve shown you this ages ago.

✰YUUTA

You and yuuta were at the grocery store, the second time this week, because food was running out again, since yuuta always insists on "buying just enough for both of us so we don't waste any food". If you didn't lie, you thought he quite enjoyed your silly little trips to the groceries. Even though the walk was short, you and yuuta often point out interesting things that cross your path. Last week you saw a dog wearing a fur coat, and just yesterday yuuta heard a construction worker whistle out the tune to "From the start" by Laufey. It's those simple things that quickly become inside jokes for the both of you. Upon arriving at the store, you usually follow yuuta as he shops for suitable groceries for today's lunch and dinner. But...after going shopping with him 3 times when you were dating, you noticed yuuta had a habit of looking at food labels. For a really long time. As yuuta examines the ingredients for the canned pineapples (why would you even need to do that? It's literally just pineapples!) you whine about how he's taking so long that you've started getting wrinkles. He then proceeds to give you a chuckle and a "wait a minute, love." and continue to read the can's contents. "(name)." He calls out your name in the most serious tone you've ever heard him in. "what?" He reaches into the cart and takes out a can of "grilled takoyaki balls: freshly made" and gives you a disgusted look. You shrug sheepishly.

✰GOJO

"(NAME)!!! (NAMEEEE)!!!" A tic almost forms at your forehead when you hear that sound, and, lo and behold, it is your husband once again embarrassing you in front of your co-workers. You walk over to him while crossing your arms. "What are you doing?" You hiss as the women (and men) all around you give you jealous looks. "Can't I surprise my darlin' at work once in a while?" He grins while holding up a bento box. Your eyes soften as you look at the homemade bento. Yeah, it probably tastes like shit cuz Gojo really can't cook, but...it's nice to see him put in an effort once in a while. "I wanna see your reaction when you eat it." He says stubbornly as he pulls your hand into the office building. "Oh boy." You think when Gojo shrugs off the security guard and waves to everyone as he waltzes into the lunch break room like he owns the place. He pulls a chair down for you and sits down in another one. "Open it, open it!" He smiles. You roll your eyes with a chuckle, and you're expecting to see some unidentified gunk, but to your surprise, it's a cute bento with sausages shaped like squid, egg rolls tucked in nicely next to the fried rice, and meat balls on a stick. “I made it four times, did you like it? And, well, I may or may have not made our kitchen a mess but it’s worth-“ You shut him up with a kiss.

✰KAMO

“Kamo, love?” “Yes, dear?” “Look at how gorgeous these Daffodils are!” You pick up a potted plant of them as Kamo miles at you. Going on dates to flower shops had become a routine for you and Kamo, since you both would do it weekly. “Yes, darling, they are beautiful. Not as beautiful as you though.” “Shut up.” You scoff as you roll your eyes and shove him playfully. Kamo has a wide knowledge about flowers, knowing what each of them symbolize and what they represent. Before dating Kamo, you would’ve never known that red, white and pink carnations had different meanings, or that white Hyacinths stood for loveliness. Most of the time on these dates you would stroll through each aisles, pointing out flowers or plants that you thought were cute. Kamo would then proceed to tell you the meaning. On the surface, it may seem like a repetitive action, but with Kamo, everything feels new and interesting. He may tell you a story about what this plant reminds him of, or about how this flower wilts to your beauty. At the end of every date (usually the shopkeeper has to kick you both out) Kamo buys you a bouquet of flowers, each symbolizing something about your relationship with one another. Even though sometimes the flowers wilt and you have to throw them away, he knows that his love for you never will.

✰KASHIMO

"Kashi! You look just like it!" Kashimo hums as he opens one eye to see you holding up a cat. You both are at a cat cafe, since you really do love cats and, well, Kashimo doesn't mind cats, really. But when he met you (a certified-cat-lover) his love for them had grown. Now, whenever he sees a stray cat on the street, he takes a picture and shows it to you. "Do I? Its hair's not green." He points out. "Well, it doesn't have to be! You and him both give off the same vibes! I just saw him standing on top of the bookshelf, thought it looked lonely." "You think I'm lonely?" He teases, getting down from his seat to sit on the floor with you. “Nah. You’re never lonely with me.” You grin. “Say hi to it!” “Hello.” He says with a deadpan face. “You have to be friendly with it!” “Hello.” He smiles an obviously forced grin. “😐” “I love you.” “Okay.” “C’mon, baby don’t be like that.” He smirks as he scoots in closer with you. You roll your eyes as you start playing with the cat. Kashimo’s eyes narrow as he snatch’s the cat away from your arms. “Hey!” “If you keep on playing with it more than me, I’m gonna think you were wishing you were dating it.” He ruffles its hair as he lets it go. “You’re so mean. It’s cute! Unlike you.” “Who exactly is the mean one?” You giggle and poke his cheek. “I’m joking, joking. I love you.” There’s a moment of silence as he takes in the words. “Well, I love you more. If this is a competition, I’m definitely gonna win.”

[queerponcho]

Transfixed | part 3

previous part | part 4

collage made by me with pictures from pinterest

moonknight!system x female!reader

a/n: AHHH- Thank you all so much for reblogging, liking and commenting on my past chapters!!! I just reached 50 reblogs and it honestly means the world that people are embracing a newbie like me (✿◠‿◠)

Warnings: no use of Y/N, fluff, NOT beta read, gushing about the moonboys, flustered awkward dorks, plot-twists, Jake being a menace, (eventual smut, the chapters will be marked individually), inaccurate depictions of DID, egyptian mythology and religion (although I did extensive research I took liberty in changing some things to adhere to my plot...), if I missed anything or made any spelling mistakes pls don't hesitate to tell me!

Summary: Steven and Marc have a little...carfuffle when Jake finally lets them front again, after days of taking over. The date plans are set and both parties eager to meet soon but are we surprised when things don't go as planned..?

2,200 words

Steven at home

‘I can’t believe this- how does this even happen Steven?’

‘Mate, I don't know! You were there weren’t you? You know how it happened…’

‘So you’re tellin’ me that any pretty girl can just sit there and you will literally tell them all about our personal business???'

‘How else was I supposed to find out about Jake huh?? Say that he’s my identical twin brother and then have to explain myself-'

‘Steven you would never have had to explain anything! Because this was supposed to be ONE conversation over a non-committal coffee- not a damn first date.’ Marc replies sternly. He looks at Steven in the glass of the fishtank and notices him looking deflated and guilty. Great- now he feels guilty for making Steven feel guilty. ‘I-I am sorry man, I shouldn't've gotten this mad, you know how I am about…personal stuff.’ Marc says sincerely. He really has been trying to be better at communicating, it’s been a feat to get here but he would do anything to make Steven's life easier. ‘It’s alright Marc..you’re right I should call off the date’ Steven says while looking at his hands, remembering your touch on his shoulder. The way you made him trust you so easily, even though he barely knew you. How desperately he wanted to get to know you an- ‘Steven, you know we share a brain right?’ Marc says trying to stop Steven from swooning any further. ‘Look- clearly you like her and she seems to like you as well, so who says this won’t turn out well?’ ‘well- you know: “we share a brain”’ Steven says, mocking Marc's previous comment. ‘Okay okay I get it-  I messed up. I’m sorry. There, will you let me help you now?’ Marc looks at Steven expectantly.

Days passed since they had returned home after you left them in the cafe. Steven was pretty sure Jake had taken over after leaving the coffee-shop but he was finally fronting again after a few days. Steven squints his eyes at Marc but relents ‘alright fine, I don’t know what to text her…I think she might be waiting for me to initiate conversation…’ ‘You realise we wouldn't have this issue if I had fronted and you wouldn't have had the chance to fall in love like a desperate teen-boy’ ‘I thought you said you lay off with the mean comments! And i am NOT in love-’

‘yeahyeah, you’ve never had a girlfriend have you? You must be reeaaally nervous…’ he adds in a singsong voice. Marc won’t let up, he’s being dragged into this mess so he might as well have a bit of fun. ‘Okay now I know you’re just takin’ the piss- are you gonna help me or not?’ Steven says fully aware of his embarrassing situation. ‘Alright, you text and I tell ya how to start, alright?’

‘Oh bollocks- uum okok I-I can do this..’ Steven is fronting now sitting on the office-chair and stares at his phone screen, starting with a simple introduction.

steven is typing...

‘Hiya- it’s me Steven!’

He had written, deleted and rewritten the message about six times before finally sending it.

You answered very quickly, you’d been waiting for him to text since you got home a few days ago. Processing everything that happened between you and steven- and well, Jake.

‘hi:) glad to hear from you. I wanted to apologise for leaving so abruptly, but it was all a bit much to process and i was running super late for work haha…i hope you understand’

‘Of course luv. If you’ve got any questions you can always ask, I hope you know that.’

‘i do’

‘i was actually hoping to ask you some questions on that date you promised me;)’

You seemed a bit more forward over text and Steven did not mind it one bit, since it was just the push he needed.

‘Right! I thought we could meet friday? There's this great vegan restaurant, I'd love to take you there?’

‘sounds great! could you pass me the address of the place?’

‘No need luv- I’ll pick you up.’

‘oh!’

‘that works too’

You hadn’t realised the age gap until this moment. They were probably around 10 years older than you with you being in your mid-twenties. You did notice the wrinkles and silver strands when you first saw Jake but hadn’t really thought about the fact that he was about a decade older than you. Just now as he offered to pick you up did you realise the generational difference. You didn’t have an issue with it, you’ve always liked your partners to be a bit older so this definitely wasn’t a turnoff. If anything it only amplified your attraction.

‘I’d love your address’

‘Whenever you get the chance to send it:)’

‘right! sending it now…’

You send him your address. 

‘Thanks luv. Alright, I’ll see you Friday at 7pm then?’

‘yes! see you tomorrow steven<3’

He sat back, setting his phone on the sink. ‘Alright there's your date’

‘Thanks for taking over, Marc- couldn’t have done it alone’

‘Relax Steven- this was just texting. But you realise I can’t just take over during the date, right?’

‘Of course I know that…doesn’t mean you shouldn’t stand by just in case…’ 

‘So- wait, what are we gonna do with Jake's notebook?’

‘I uuhm couldn't find anything besides drawings and sketches of her…I mean at least we had those, otherwise we would’ve never found out about him loaning that book.’

‘By the way…we know Jake likes her as well, by getting to know her better, we have a chance of actually luring Jake out-’

‘That might be true but that's not our goal! I- I actually like her…she might become my first proper girlfriend, I don't wanna mess this up.’ Steven is adamant on getting to know you, very hopeful of the connection he feels towards you. An almost magnetic pull he felt between you, one he has never felt with anyone before.

Marc chuckles at the reminder but reassures Steven, ‘And we won't, I promise, you will do fine Steven’

Friday

It’s 4 am. You’ve been trying to sleep for the past four hours but the thought of getting to see Steven and possibly Jake later today was not letting you relax. If anything it was causing a very persistent tension…in places you really dont wanna delve into. In fact, you’re trying really hard not to think about that tension, which might be the exact reason as to why you can’t seem to find your way to a peaceful slumber. You try to distract yourself by thinking of how this all even started. The way Jake intrigued you since the beginning and had you speechless every time he appeared. And you think about steven- steven who's the polar opposite to jake and is this shy sweetheart that can’t seem to even look you in the eyes but somehow managed to bluntly ask you out on a date. You keep thinking about them and their differences and analyse them, not noticing your eyes slowly shutting closed and your thoughts slowly forming into vivid dreams based on your memories with the boys…you sit up in your bed abruptly remembering your texts with steven. Realising you had shared your private address with a fucking stranger…you hold your head in your hands and push your palms into your eye-sockets trying to calm down. You don't actually know shit about these men…you really should’ve told your friends about them cuz literally no one knows about these encounters. But truly it was all so bizarre and absurd that you really didn’t want your friends to spoil it for you by using anything close to logic or realism. To maybe argue that they could have anything untoward in mind with you. 

You lay back down and finally feel a wave of exhaustion hit you. You want to believe that they actually maybe even like you…of course there is a possibility that Steven only asked you out to find out more about Jake. oh and marc, was it? You wonder what he might be like and if he's anything like his alters. You turn from your clock having hit 5am and finally force yourself into sleep.

You wake up to your alarm blaring and prepare yourself for work. You start the day groggy and tired due to only sleeping four hours. But just the thought of your date tonight has you motivated enough to hurry up and catch the next bus.

Moonboys POV

Marc woke up around noonish since Steven took forever to finally fall asleep. Lately he’d been better but last night he was as jittery as a six year old the night before christmas. Currently standing in the kitchen brewing himself a cup of black coffee and prepping his mug with two brown sugars. ‘So loverboy, what are you planning for tonight?’ He says while wearing an amused smirk on his face.

‘Okay well first off, cool it with the nicknames yeah? And secondly you literally texted it for me yesterday. We are goin’ to my favourite restaurant.’ Steven replies proudly while also ashamed for not even having the balls to text you himself. ‘About that…I don’t think that place is open right now- in fact I think all the restaurants are closed today, no?’ Marc remarks and pours himself the long awaited bitter brew. ‘Wha-Whatareyousayin mate??’

‘Well’ He clears his throat ‘when I woke up I saw today's date and remembered that today is that weird holiday, the only thing open are convenience stores and the 24-hour Tesco’ he says, his voice laced in an amused tone and takes a slow sip of his sweetened coffee. ‘Bollocks- what am I gonna do?...I could cook?’ ‘Steven’ ‘No, I-i can't even make a- a salad! How the hell am i supposed to cook for her if I can't cook marc?!’ he says panicked ‘Steven’ marc sternly interrupts, carefully putting his half empty mug on the counter 

‘I can help you. I may not be amazing at it but I can remember a few things from- from what our dad taught us.’ Marc and Steven rarely talked about their past but recently they were kinda forced to deal with it. Just the fact that they, let alone Marc, can mention anything from that time so casually is kind of a huge step for them. 

Marc and Steven spend the rest of the day planning, buying and preparing the food for the date. The time comes when Steven has to take over the body to get ready to pick you up. He finds a shirt in the back of his closet- same oversized cut as his others but a bit less casual and more sleek looking than the usual shirts he wears. His hair is as unruly and fluffy as usual despite Marc insisting on sleeking it back. He convinces him to use some curling cream he had found in the back of the bathroom drawer.

Steven applies it sceptically, coming to the conclusion that it does look pretty good. He makes his way to your address making sure to ring on the right door. Basically buzzing from anxiety, Marc is doing everything to keep him calm and rehearse with him what he was gonna do and say when you ringed him in and opened your door, knowing full well, that all the preparation would fly out the window when he actually met you…Jake is silently watching this all transpire and cant help but be amused at all this, not admitting that he was actually a bit nervous himself.

You came back from work tired BUT extremely excited to get ready. You had to stay a bit longer than anticipated and thus only had about one hour to get ready. Hopping in the shower as quickly as possible you try to calm down under the warm streams of water hitting your body, melting all the tension out of your back, shoulders and sore legs. Work had been exhausting and this shower was proving to get difficult to leave. But the alarm you had set to remind yourself of the time, successfully cut your relaxation short. You quickly exited your shower wrapping your body in a fluffy white towel. Wiping the steamy mirror to see your reflection more clearly, you start getting ready. Adding whatever products you use to your hair and applying sweet smelling lotion to your body, basically doing any- and everything to make you feel as confident and ready as possible for your date, who was supposed to arrive iiiin…twenty minutes?!

You hurried your makeup routine and rushed to your room quickly picking out an outfit you felt sexy in but also had a grounding and comfy vibe. You threw on a beige knitted sweater, which had an oversized fit with a mini-jean skirt. Paired with sheer brown tights, thigh-high beige cashmere socks and brown leather knee-high, high-heeled boots. Finishing off the look with your favourite jewellery and accessories, you look over at the clock. It's 6.50pm and you are just adding the last finishing touches to your look and making sure you've moved all the important things from your ‘work-bag’ to your ‘going out purse’ when the door rings. ‘He's here’ you mutter to yourself, running to the door making sure it's him and pushing the button to the intercom. ‘Yes, hello?’

a/n: hope yall liked this chapterrr- in the next chapter you'll be able to read all about the date and i am SO excited for yall to read about it *squeals* don't mean to toot my own horn but GURL it's so good i already wanna post it ♪(´▽｀)

The lovely people in my taglist: @lilladyblink14 @lemongirl5910

please notify me if you want to be added/ removed from the Taglist<3

[whynot-tryit]

Angel of Small Death

Chapter 3

Pairing: John Price x Female! Reader

Summary: The team is sent on a mission, someone is hurt. You doing everything in your power to do your job, keep them alive, even if that means you break some rules and get your ass chewed for it.

Word count: 3523

Warnings: inaccurate medical terminology and procedure, blood, slight angst, yelling, name calling, bullying, lmk if I missed anything.

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You had been excited about the meeting you had set up with Price, it had been plaguing you for days but it was quickly pushed to the back of your mind and to the bottom of your to do list. 

The base was a mess, rushing bodies in and out of buildings, some on stretchers and some on their own two feet. An informant had given the location of a well known terrorist leader and his men, the information was only going to be good for at most 48 hours. It was rushed, but it was enough time to get Price and his men ready. It would be their first out field mission with you being their medic. Part of your job to get them ready was to pack their med kits, a small fanny pack type of thing in their vest in case of anything. You’ve done it thousands of times but you couldn’t help the slight tremor in your fingers while placing wound compresses inside of them, praying they wouldn’t have to use it.

You’d be in the med bay, helping whoever you could, waiting until your men got back. They would only page you if it was something serious. The sound of the machine at the edge of your scrub pants is playing faintly in the back of your mind, all the times you have ever heard it go off playing over and over again through your memories. You keep yourself busy for what feels like forever, bandaging random soldiers, taking inventory and filing paperwork. It's been hours and a part of you is scared that they won’t be coming back at all. 

They know what they’re doing, they’ve done multiple times without me before. You keep telling yourself over and over. It's like your lungs can’t fill up with air, like your ribs are in the way and a part of you wants to rip your chest open just so you can breathe. 

Beeping breaks you out of your thoughts, its high pitched it makes your lungs shrivel up deep within your chest. Fuck.

You rip the pager out of its clipped position on your scrub pants, the electronic screen flashing at you. They’re two minutes out. 

There’s nothing else you can make of the message, there's no description of an injury or who exactly was hurt. Your feet start carrying you, running towards the evac landing dock. The sound of the soles of your shoes connecting the tiles that make up the hallway floor and your heartbeat is all that invades your ears.

 You finally get to the mouth of the landing dock, there's three medical personnel already waiting for you with a stretcher. It barely takes you a second to take in the scene before you see the helicopter, the wind picks up- venting through the fabric of your scrubs, your hand coming up to shield your eyes from both the sun and the dust picked up by the violent wind. The noise is almost deafening, you can barely make out the bodies piling out of the body of the helicopter. You can see the shapes of what you can guess is Ghost and Soap jump out, but there's one more still inside, kneeled over the body of another. 

It’s Gaz. 

You’re rushing to the side of the helicopter, pulling yourself up to take a look at him.

John is putting pressure with both hands on his side, you can see a bit of cloth peeking out, a compress, but it doesn’t seem like it’s making anything better. You can finally hear something besides the sound of the wind, and rushing people.

“It's a gunshot wound, Ghost tried to patch him up but it's not stopping!” John has to scream just to get his words past the noises raging around everyone. You take a look over Gaz’s face, he’s pale from blood loss and his eyes are staring off into the space between you and John. 

“Let me take over!” You grab a hold of John's wrist, there's a moment where he won’t budge and you finally meet his eyes instead of the blood that's now on the floor of the metal frame. You see something flash through his eyes but his grip finally loosens and you don’t waste time. You scream over your shoulder to bring the stretcher closer and John helps you get Gaz onto it. 

You take a second to check his pulse, and you fight back a gasp when you don’t feel the light jump underneath the skin of his neck. You don’t hesitate to jump onto the stretcher with him and situate yourself above him, your hands clasped over his chest to start compressions. 

It takes the breath out of John's chest. It’s the last sight he gets of the both of you before you and Gaz are wheeled out back into the base. 

You’re trying to keep count of your compressions but the slight bump of the stretcher going over the saddles of the doorways and the sharp turns of the base are trying to throw you in for a loop. Your elbows are locked, the ache starting to settle deep in your bones from the action. 

The white walls and fluorescent lights finally fill your senses and you jump off the stretcher to move Gaz onto the bed. As soon as all the hands disperse you're quick to open up his shirt, his tactical vest removed long ago. 

“I need one round of epi now!” As soon as you see his bare chest you place the shock pads on while they administer the shot. “Everyone step back!” You take two steps back and everyone else in the room does so too. You hear the machine let out two beeps before it administers a shock and Gaz’s body tenses up before going limp again. 

You rush back to his side and check for a pulse, but find nothing. Your hands go back to their tiring position to start compressions again while ordering your people around. 

“Get the machine ready for another shock, set up another shot of epi and get me a heart monitor now!” 

You keep counting the hard beating of your hands on Gaz’s chest while people around you grab what you need and put them into place. “Clear!” You back up and watch the repeated action of his body yet again. Fuck.

“Give him the second shot of epi!” You’re about to start the compressions again while they administer the shot when someone grabs you by the shoulder to turn you. 

“We’ve already given him one and shocked him twice, we can’t do anything more.” 

You quickly shrug off the hand and words. “Epi now!” There are hesitant looks around the room but no one moves. You stop the compressions to grab the syringe on the table and put it into his forearm and press the button on the shock machine “Clear!” 

You know there’s a protocol, you had spent hours reading over them but you weren’t going to let that stop you from doing your job- not when it came to you team, your men. You can imagine the look in John’s eyes when you tell him that Gaz is gone. That he died while under his orders, under his hands. The idea makes you swallow a lump in your throat, the taste of bile lingers in your mouth. 

Gaz’s body falls back and you try in a final fit to give him CPR, you keep your eyes on the heart monitor- praying, begging. It feels like hours, years, where the flat line haunts your eyes and the slight cold damp skin beneath your hands. 

The line spikes. You stop the compressions. The Heart monitor keeps a steady rhythm and you finally let out a breath. “Okay let's get the wound taken care of, let's start an IV and give some antibiotics and fluids.” The urge to yell is now non-existent, the adrenaline is still in your system but you try to calm your shaking hands as you move to start examining his wound. 

—----------------

It takes an hour to get Gaz stable. The compress had been taken out and the bullet extracted- the wound now clean and stitched. The shot hadn’t hit any bone or organ- thank god- but it was bloody, his iron deficiency making it easier for him to bleed out. 

The adrenaline had left your system, a tired achy feeling now taking its place. You wanted to take a nice long shower and crawl up into your bed but you know the other boys are waiting outside of the med bay waiting for news. 

You discard the bloody gloves that were once on your hands into the trash and make your way to the entrance of the med bay. Your eyes make their way across the large area, trying to find John. His hat makes an appearance in your peripheral vision and you turn to find the blue eyes that come along with it. Before your feet can start their way towards the figure a hand closes around your upper arm and drags you in the other direction. 

Your eyes come up and see the same doctor that had tried to stop you from giving Gaz that last shot of epi. “Hey, what the fuck are you doing?” 

He finally lets you go after you’re a good distance away from the entrance of the med bay. 

“Are you fucking stupid?” 

“Excuse me?” You’re startled by his attitude, a surprised look making its way on your face. 

“You broke protocol, even though I tried to warn you.”

“I did my job, and I did it pretty well if you tell me.”

“Well I’m telling you you fucked up, big time. There are rules for a reason. You’re not special, they don’t just disappear because you need them to.” 

You let out a chuckle. Things with the other medical staff had been tense, you had always had this feeling they didn’t like you. Sure, you broke protocol, but as most things come- this was not the worst way things could’ve played out. “I saved my patient.” 

“You want a fucking medal?”

“No, I want you off my ass.” 

He chuckles back at you, his eyes gleaming with annoyance and anger, yours undoubtedly  holding the same. 

John had seen the man grab a hold of you and whisk you off down the hall but still in his eyesight. He had sent Soap and Ghost to their rooms, to clean up and get a bite to eat while he’s been pacing back and forth by the med bay, waiting for you to give him an update on Gaz. 

His feet make their way to you and the other doctor, who has now taken a closer step towards you, invading your personal space. 

“You’re lucky that I wasn’t the one who hired you. No one fucking wants you here, you better remember that before you go around doing whatever the fuck you want.”

You stand your ground, hands clenched into fists by your side. His insult hit home for you as much as you hated it. The feeling of being needed was much more common for you than being wanted. It took years, many of them including your childhood and young adult years realizing there was a stark difference between the two.   

You can see the anger boiling behind his eyes, his lips pursing to throw out another insult at you. 

“Is there a problem here?” You turn your head to the familiar voice, John just standing a few feet away from the conflict. Your hands unclenched on reflex once your eyes meet his. 

The furious doctor barely acknowledges the captain before taking a step back from you, finally giving you enough space to breathe. “No, no problem here.” His eyes never leave your face until he turns to head back into the med bay. 

It hits you that you’re covered in blood, Gaz’s blood, and it must look like a bad sight to the captain. The dark red stands out against the green of your scrubs. 

You take a deep breath and turn your body to fully face the captain. “He’s gonna be alright, he bled out a lot easier because of his iron deficiency. He hasn’t been on those iron supplements long enough yet to help him and that's why he flatlined for a little.” There's a knot in your throat, it's been there for a few minutes, since the insults thrown at you settled in your skin. It feels like no matter how much you swallow or breathe you can’t get it out. 

John lets out a sigh of relief, his shoulders loosening from the weight lifted off his shoulders- hands on his hips. His head hangs low, not able to meet your eyes. You realize how worried he’s probably been, he saw you perform CPR on Gaz, his body limp from the second they pulled him out of the helicopter and he’s just been waiting for something- anything since then. 

You finally will the knot in your throat to go down, it takes up residence in your stomach now but you raise a hand to touch his shoulder, thumb grazing the rough fabric of his jacket. “He might need six weeks minimum to recover but he’s gonna be okay, John.” Your voice is slightly above a whisper, your eyes now roving over the bodies around the two of you, a few feet away. 

The small crowd seems to be bothering John too, not just you. You softly use the hand on his shoulder to guide him a few feet down the hall to your office. 

You guide him into the room before closing the door and turning back to him. His eyes have finally torn themselves from the floor, shoulders still loose. “I’ll give you updates everyday if you’d like. Gaz is gonna be knocked out for the rest of the night so there’s not much to do till then.” 

“Is he comfortable?” The question makes you blink, a hand coming to rub the back of your neck. 

“Umm, I did put two pairs of socks on his feet and two warmed blankets on him so he stays warm, blood loss will make you pretty cold.” Your voice trails off towards the end, unsure what he meant by that. “Oh I also left him some apple juice on his bedside, he really likes the ones they serve here- the ones with the peel back lid. He likes them half frozen.” Your words die on your tongue when you see John trying to fight back a smile.

You don’t get to see the warm look on his face often, years of service engraved into his skin but it makes you sort of breathless. Like that feeling you get in your chest after a good laughing session with your friends. It makes your lips dry and you wet them with your tongue.

John’s eyes trace the movement and he finally breaks into a full smile. “I meant, is he in pain?” 

A part of you wants to punch yourself in the face or just slam your forehead into a cement wall. You stutter out a response, heat creeping up your neck and into your cheeks out of embarrassment.

“Oh! No. He’s on some morphine so when he wakes up he won’t be in pain.” Your hands are outstretched in front of you like you’re trying to calm down a wild animal, followed by your frazzled sentence. This makes a small chuckle rumble through him. 

The shake of his chest makes you take him in- in his tactical outfit. The beanie does wonders on his facial structure and the tactical vest- has his shoulders always been this broad- and his waist, the military was doing god’s work with those cargo pants. The sight leaves your mouth dry, like you can drink a whole lake and still not be satisfied. 

His height also finally hits you. You’re a decent height, it's never been a problem but his boots add a couple inches and all of a sudden you realize how he’s already towering over you even though he’s still only standing a few feet away. 

Your train of thoughts continues as he takes a slow step towards you, your eyes catching onto his chest before making their way up to his eyes. He’s close enough for you to smell him, sweat and gunpowder, and what you would guess is a hint of red clay. 

A hand comes up to your shoulder, almost where you had placed yours on his earlier. His hands are bigger than your- of course- covering more surface area than your own. His thumb catches the naked skin of your collar bone peeking out from your scrub top through the neck line. 

“Thank you, love.”

His voice is deeper than his previous ones and you’re praying to god that he can’t feel your heartbeat through your skin, you can hear it in your ears. His eyes are boring into yours, a solemn look, gratitude mixed with exhaustion. The idea of kissing him crosses your mind for a second and you quickly look at something past him, the wall behind him, to get the thought out. 

“I was just doing my job, captain.”

His thumb grazes your collar bone again and you can feel goosebumps form on the back of your neck and down your arms. The feeling causes you to meet his eyes again. 

“You did more than that. You do more than that everyday. So, thank you.”

His eyes harden when he utters the last words. Like as if he was trying to gently drill it into you for you to understand his gratitude. The look makes you gulp and you almost move to look down at your feet, his touch- his eyes- too much for you to handle at the moment.

The hand on your shoulder moves to the side of your face, his thumb on your cheek and his palm cradling your jaw. You suck in a breath, the noise loud enough for John to hear but his face doesn’t give it away. “You’re a good medic, love.” 

He most likely heard the insults that the doctor had thrown at you, his words ringing through your head and you place one of your hands on his forearm, the one attached to the hand on the side of your face. “John, I-” 

Another hand comes up to grab your bicep, his touch is sturdy and strong- not painful but the heat that radiates from it is almost scorching. The new movement pushes you even closer to him, your breathing is soft, a whisper of it brushing John's face- a small ripple through his facial hair. 

A part of you thinks he’s going to kiss you, and another part of you wants him to. Flashes of Gaz’s limp body and the blood littering the metal floor of the helicopter appear behind your eyes and your jaw tenses under his hand. 

It’s like John can hear your thoughts, the images of Gaz and all of today's earlier events registering. He should let you go, say goodnight and never touch you in such a way again. A part of him wants to shut down the idea immediately, your skin was soft, warm, everything he prayed for in his most desperate moments. He wants to kiss you, slide his hands across your body- memorize your curves, the taste of your lips. He wanted to know how you’d whimper, moan, gasp. 

His eyes glance down at your lips before looking back up at your eyes. 

You catch his diverted glance and you feel your stomach flip. God, you wanted to kiss him, but something told you this wasn’t the right time. Your other hand comes to grip the fabric of his jacket, the bit of it that peeks out from under his tactical vest. “Y-you should probably go tell Soap and Ghost about Gaz. Unless you want me to.” 

John takes in the look in your eyes, you don’t look put off, embarrassed or uncomfortable. You don’t hate his touch- but the moment isn’t right. His hand on your face moves down to your bicep, both of his hands still on you.

He sighs, “I’ll go tell them now.” His hands finally fall back and you suddenly feel cold. It seeps into your bones and all of a sudden exhaustion hits you, hunger gnawing at your stomach and a headache hinting at your temples.

“Rest up, love.” John gives you a once over before pulling the door to your office open, throwing you a small smile before heading out, leaving the door slightly ajar. 

You finally take a deep breath in and run your hands down your face. Fuck, fuck, fuck ,fuck ,fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. A part of you wants to laugh at how unprofessional the situation was, how childishly giddy it made you feel. 

It would have to wait, Gaz was unconscious just down the hall and you had a job to do and so did John. 

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Taglist: @sharkiestory @midwesternwitchery @lavenderhhze @thriving-n-jiving @rivalriotrenegade @bitchoftoji @wasteland-babe @chloepluto1306 @sagewtff @not-so-innocent-now @scuftryo @cityoffallencrows @cumbermovels @iamaliceinwonderland @namelessnikki2 @honeyr4ven

[starstruckunknown-princess]

Asphodel - Kylo Ren x Reader

Asphodel (Asphodelus) - Meaning: My regrets follow you to the grave

Summary: The night Ben Solo became Kylo Ren, and the love he lost along the way.

Pairing: Past! Kylo Ren x Reader

Word Count: 1048

Warnings: Pre-TFA, discussions of Luke's School for Little Jedi and Luke's attempt on Ben's life, emotional manipulation, slight gaslighting, off-screen explosion, mentions of Knights of Ren killing people, brief fight, reader gets stabbed with a lightsaber.

Not sure how I feel about this one, but here's Day 5! This is my interpretation of how that night at Luke's Jedi Academy went, it's probably very inaccurate but whatever!

In Bloom Masterlist

Likes, Comments, Reblogs are always appreciated! <3

“Ben, what’s going on?” she asked, rubbing her face sleepily, adorably, as she joined him in the hallway of the dormitory. He wasted no time folding her into his arms, placing a kiss in her hair. 

How sure he’d been that she would be on his side, how Snoak assured him that their relationship would not get in the way of his training as opposed to Luke, who had advised against forming such close attachments. 

But how could he help himself? She was beautiful and smart and strong with the Force. She made him laugh on his first day when his heart was breaking as the Falcon lifted off the ground and dashed away. They trained together, challenging each other, and making one another better. Ben couldn’t picture a future without her in it, and he knew she felt the same about him.

“It’s time,” he said, “we’re going to join Snoak.” He stepped back and reached out his hand toward her, expecting her to take it but she just stared. 

“Join Snoak? But Ben, I, I thought…what happened?” The confusion read clearly across her pretty face, and Ben stepped closer. He cupped her face with the hand he’d reached out to her, tipping it up so he could explain while looking into her eyes. 

“It was just as Snoak said,” he explained, “Luke is afraid of my power. He tried to ambush me, tried to kill me in my sleep. Snoak told me he would betray me, betray us, so now we need to go.” 

“No,” she said as she stepped away from him, “Luke wouldn’t do that. I’m sure it was a misunderstanding. If we just talk to him, hear his side, it’ll be okay.”

“It’s too late for that, my love,” Ben tried to console her, but again she shuffled out of his reach. “We need to leave.” 

“No.”

“If you’re not with us, you’re against us,” he warned, “Is that really what you want?” 

“Snoak is dangerous, Ben, he’s been lying to you for months, twisting things around, please be reasonable-” 

“Reasonable? Is it reasonable to try and kill your nephew because he challenges you? Because you’re not as strong or as powerful as he is?” 

“That’s not what happened, Luke wouldn’t-” 

Kylo Ren closed the distance between them, crowding her against the wall with his body. “He did. And he will pay for it.” 

To this day, he could still feel her fear through the Force and how he had used it to influence her. 

“Come with me,” he said. “You want to come with me.” 

For a moment it seemed like it would work, that he had managed to bend her to his will as her face went momentarily blank, but she shook her head and it cleared away. 

“No,” she defied, opening her mouth to say more when a large explosion from outside caught her attention. Letting her push past him, she ran to the window and gasped. 

“The temple is burning,” she said, shock evident in her tone. 

“Good.” 

For a moment she stood there, frozen with her mouth agape. He could almost see the gears turning in her mind, how she was putting together that he had orchestrated the explosion, how his fellows were taking out the troublesome Jedi who would eventually stand in their way. Through the Force, he felt her rage rise within her like a tide. A smirk graced his lips, and with an angry yell, she ignited her blade. 

For the second time that night, he blocked an initial attack. Her anger fueled her rapid-fire attacks, and he couldn’t help but feel a little proud and perhaps even hopeful. If he could make her feel the intoxicating power of the Dark Side, maybe she would see the error in Luke’s teachings.

“Good,” he repeated, parrying her latest attack, “Feel your rage, use it. Can’t you taste the power? This is how it would be for us, always, if you joined me!” 

That comment caught her off guard, and he was able to land a blow to her shoulder. The smell of singed flesh accompanied her cry of pain, but he didn’t stop. She rallied, blocking his blows.

“Come with me,” he insisted, “And I will teach you to use this passion, this power, and we will use it to rule the galaxy. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?” With a grunt of anger, she began another offensive strike, but he continued, “You and me, side by side forever? Now is our chance!”

“Our chance to what?” she panted, “Become the next Empire? Rule through tyranny and suppression? That’s what our parents fought against! It’s everything that Luke taught us was wrong!” 

Their sabers clashed in an ‘X’ formation, and he stared at her through the light. 

“If you’re not with me, you’re against me,” he explained simply before turning off his blade. This made her fall forward and he smoothly stepped out of the way. She fell onto her hands and knees, her saber turned off beneath her. 

A voice inside him whispered for him to kill her. Another told him to kidnap her, take her with him. Yet another, this one real and outside of himself, called that they needed help outside the burning temple. 

“Last chance, my love.”

The hate in her eyes as she looked up at him — such potential wasted. Her breathing was ragged and her resolve absolute. 

“Never.”

Letting his rage and anger and desire for revenge eclipse his love for her, he reignited his saber and drove it into her back. A short gasp was all he heard before he felt her Force drain away and her limp body fall to the floor. Killing her was like killing a part of himself, but what was he supposed to do? He couldn’t have her chasing him all around the galaxy and he certainly couldn’t have her interfering in his plans.

As much as he wanted to go to her and brush her hair away from her beautiful face for the last time, he knew Snoak would label that as weakness. His future training needed to proceed unencumbered and, like he had said: If she wasn’t with him, she was against him. 

Maker, how he wished things had turned out differently.

[ashascoven]

☽ ✯ venture x witch! reader pt. 3! ✯ ☾

✯ welcome back everyone, to part three!!! (here is part one, and part two!)

✯ sorry for this taking so long, my mind has been brainrotting with valorant and roblox i cant lie...

✯ i was also a bit stuck on how i wanted to go about this... but every like has just been more motivation to keep trying to continue this, so thank you <3

✯ hope there's people out there enjoying this, happy reading!!!

☆ FANFIC DEETS! venturexreader ☆

reader is a female who practices witchcraft! i wrote her that way because i also am a witch irl! :,)

VERY lengthy build-up fanfic (LOTS of reading.. i type a lot i think?)

venture is referred to as sloan <3

lifeweaver is besties with the reader, referred to as niran!

everything related to witchcraft here may be exaggerated / inaccurate for fanfic purposes.. but i tried writing it all into an experience > just reading!!

eventual ritual smut....

feel free to hmu, hope u enjoy :D

“IM HOOOMMEEEE, MII AMOOORR~!!!! ⊂( ´ ▽ ` )⊃”

You gritted you teeth at the rock muncher that just busted through the front door, their hand happily waving in the air at you.

You shook your head and took a visible breath, cracking your knuckles.

“please, excuse me niran.”

“mhm! take all of the time you nee-”

“AAAOOOOWWWWW!!!! IM SORRYY!!! WHY ARE YOU HITTING ME?!? I THOUGHT YOU'D MISS ME??!??? (>д<)”

“WHY DID YOU STEAL MY JARS THIS MORNING??!? WHAT DID YOU EVEN DO WITH THEM??!? HUH????”

“I ONLY USED ONE FOR YOUR FOOD EARLIER I SWEA- AAHHHHHH MI AMOR PLEASE!!!!!! HAVE MERCY!!!! ヽ(￣д￣;)ノ”

“mercy? haha, i’m sure angela would react the same if it were her and her morning tea being stolen~ (＾◡＾)” Niran chuckled, taking a sip of his.

He watched as you had Sloan on the floor in a chokehold, their bag and drill frantically thrown to the side of the doorway.

Their hands were desperately trying to pull yours off of their neck, but you didn't budge. 

You looked down at them with murder in your eyes, fully prepared to make them beg for their life.

“tell me where the rest of my jars are.”

“y/n.. please, have mercy-..” 

They were starting to turn red, eyes squinting in extreme discomfort as they practically wiggled under your freakishly strong grasp on them.

Were they into this or not? They couldn't tell, but they definitely weren't being let off easily.

“you tell me what you took my waters for, where they are, and what made you not consider just ASKING me.. and MAYBE i wont boil you into a cauldron stew."

“mi a-amor-”

“WHERE ARE THEY, SLOAN.”

“i c-can explain if yo-”

“I WON'T HESITATE TO TURN YOU INTO BONE MEAL FOR THE PLANTS!!!! SPIT IT OUT!!”

“w-wait that'd actually be-”

“be WHAT?”

You suddenly loosened your grip on their neck, moving your hands up to holding their face and staring at them with a frown.

“..aweeesoomme◝(⁰▿⁰)◜???”

“...”

“listen, i know it prooobaablyy looked bad, b-but i promise i didn't mean any..”

You slowly leaned down towards their ear and pushed aside their headset, making them trail off from their words. 

“no, you listen to me.”

You spoke in a low tone, earning a nervous gulp in response. 

The excavator’s entire body shivered at the way your voice rang through their skull, cooing to them like a gentle warning that they were dead meat the split second Niran left.

“i was in the middle of doing a tarot reading for niran before you came home, and i need to go finish that up for him.”

“when im done, you better have prayed to every god you know.. because when i get to you, sloan cameron..”

You leaned closer, lowering into a whisper.

“you're gonna be begging for forgiveness.”

With that, you got up and made your way back to the kitchen, dusting the dirt from Sloan's clothes off of your own.

They, on the other hand, stayed on the floor for a minute with wide eyes, breath hitched in their throat, trying to process how they wanted to feel about what you just did.

Yeah, they did essentially steal from you with no explanation, and you seemed reasonably mad at them for it, but why was their face burning?

“niran, i am so sorry about that.. interruption.” You rubbed your forehead, taking a seat across from him again.

“no worries! you can always take the time you need, i’m never in a hurry anyway.”

“thank you.. gosh, you're always so kind and patient with everything, i dunno how you do it.”

It was your turn to lean on the table with your face in hand, glancing over at the phased out sloan still sitting by the door.

“hah, if i’m being honest, i’m not sure either.”

He shrugged his shoulders, reaching down to pet the raccoon and possum that were now rubbing against his leg.

“i just approach everything with a- uh.. pardon me, but are they supposed to be doing.. that?”

Niran tilted his head, pointing at Sloan. They seemed to be standing near an altar of yours, one of your salt lamps about to.. enter their mouth.

“hu- SLOAN, YOU PUT MY LAMP DOWN RIGHT NOW! |･д･)ﾉ”

They quickly set it down in embarrassment like a child getting caught doing something they're not supposed to. How they got up so quickly and found the covered lamp on one of your altars was unknown to you.

“sorry..! forgot again- and heey niran! sorry for not saying it earlier.. (⇀‸↼‶)”

They rubbed the back of their neck in shame, looking at the floor.

Whenever they felt bad about something, their go-to was munching at.. questionable things. A lot of times, they won't even realize they're doing it, and that's how lots of your things go missing.

“hello!- (٥⁀▽⁀ )／”

“..ahem! anywho.”

“mhm?”

“niran, do you feel like my reading resonated with you?”

“hmm.” He took the last sip of his tea before setting it down.

“i do feel as if.. it resonates, but not for me.”

“oh?” You raised a brow.

“rather.. y/n, don't you think it all sounded very familiar?”

“eh? really? how.. so?”

He gestured towards your lover, who was nervously fidgeting at the door, seemingly waiting for you. 

It looked like it took every bone in their body to not pick your lamp back up again and start biting.

“wh.. what do you mean? i don't think my partners.. stupid, they're very smart for the work they do…?” 

You hadn’t picked up on it somehow, your mind defaulting to showing off your lover to others.. even though you had just.. threatened said lover.

“no, my friend, what was your answer to my question earlier?”

“about how i was doing?.. uhh..?? i don- oh… oh.”

You turned in your seat and looked back at Sloan, who had caved and started biting at the lamp.

You could see them stop to ‘shush’ the bugs in their respective jars on your altar, not wanting them to tattle for what they were witnessing.

If anything, thank goddesses it was the lamp being eaten and not.. the bugs themselves.

“damn, i must've really made em’ scared huh.”

You both kept watching, but they didn't notice their audience yet, too nervously deep into their comforting eating session.

“it's normal, but i'm not sure about the salt-eating thing though..”

“yeah.. i’ve got to sign them up for that strange addiction tv show sometime.”

“agreed. ( ❛ᴗ❛ )”

“but anyway, ya know.. you're entirely right, it makes a lot of sense.” You ran a hand through your hair with a sigh.

“well, don't forget to give yourself most of the credit, y/n.. you were the one who read the cards after all! i’m impressed!”

“ahh, thank you, but? doesn't that mean i basically.. did that reading on myself? what about you?”

“don't worry about me, I'm quite content with what we've learned today~”

“hmmmmm… you.. sure?” 

“mhm! if you truly are worried about the results of this reading, then can i ask you to do some other things for me instead?”

“oh? of course! what is it?”

“for starters, i think you should.. remember to be more patient with yourself.. and them.” He nudged his head towards Sloan’s direction.

“i fully believe that you two thrive together as a couple, so conflicts, like mentioned in your reading, shouldn't push you two apart.”

“i.. see.” You turned around to look at them again, your eyes squinting at the way your lamp was now half-way gone and probably in their stomach.

“yup! there truly is no rush to every little thing in life.. it's best enjoyed when you bask into each ray of light for how bright they really are, not for how bask-worthy you were expecting, right?”

“pshh, it's like i’m the one being soul read now,” you jokingly rolled your eyes, “but gosh, you're so right.”

“hmph, do i really just.. expect too much of them? like in your honest opinion, am i too.. harsh..?”

“from what i’ve seen, no. your current frustration is valid, given how this has never happened before. it seems right to be confused.. to want answers.. but, would you say you trust them?”

“huh? oh of course i do, why wouldn't i?”

“i think you should keep at that. have they ever wronged you?”

“outside of.. being the reason i could never keep ingredients for spells in the house.. no?”

“then, you should help their flowers flourish, even if you're not sure what seeds they've planted yet.”

“ah.. i definitely get what you're saying.”

“yes?”

“to be more patient and open-minded of them right now, and get back at them with a really well-thought out ritual later! maybe ill even get my witchy ancestors onto them? (っ˘ω˘ς )” You grinned, jokingly plotting your partner’s karma.

“..sure. (¯▿¯)”

“thank you a lot niran.. if you weren't here, i probably would've strangled them to death already.”

“HEY! THAT WOULDN'T BE A NICE WAY TO DIE THOUGH! ( `ε´ )”

“SHUT IT, LAMP EATER! ლ(¯ロ¯"ლ)”

“ahem, seriously, thank you a ton. your words will definitely be kept in mind when i.. deal with that knucklehead.”

Cartoon-like sparkles and hearts practically radiated off of you as you innocently thanked Niran.

You smiled happily, knowing good and well what you were planning for your lover when he left.

“of course, y/n! anytime you need something, i’m a phone call away! i trust that you'll take care of your partner just fine~ (ง ื▿ ื)ว”

Getting up and clasping his hands together, he took his cup to the sink. He tried to wash it, but you shoo’ed him away with a ‘nono, i got it, you're good!’

“thank you.. with that being said.. i’m afraid it's actually time for me to go. i have my own flower awaiting me at home, but it was a lovely morning spent with you! (⌒ω⌒)”

He made his way to the door, patting Sloan’s head before putting his sandals back on.

“likewise! thank you for this, really.” 

You followed him, casually whacking your partner in the head and earning a ‘hey! >:(‘ out of them.

“of course! send me those love spell recipes for my bap when you get a chance, yah? (¬‿¬ )”

“only if you tell me how they work out for you two! (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ”

You waved as he headed out with his umbrella, shooting you a thumbs-up before leaving.

“w-whew! it's a niiiccee raiinyy day, isn't it??!? i h-hope you two had a nice morni-”

“sloan.”

“i- u-uh-.. hiiii..yaaa? :,D”

“sloan cameron.”

“..im so fucked.”

“soo,” you had to remind yourself to be easy on Sloan with a heavy sigh, “..did youu.. take my jars of moon water to work?”

“y-yeah-”

“and.. did you bring them back?”

“s..sorta?-”

“SORTA?”

“i m-mean, i did! i brought them back but-”

“..but what?”

You caught yourself and sighed.

“sorry.. it's just? i’ve been stressed out almost all morning about this.. i’ve been curing those for like, three years now, every full moon, non-stop.”

You paced around in front of them, twiddling your hands in your own frantics of their responses.

“you-.. three years??!?”

“yes??? i've told you this over and over.. why do you think i’m so worked up over this?” You stood in front of them with crossed arms, eyeing them over.

“oh my god- i-?!?” They wrapped their arms around you.

“i'm s-so sorry for using some of it for your food this morning mi amor..! believe me, i w-wouldn't have even touched them if i had remembered! ugh, stupid sloan.. stupid me! the one time i try to change things up and it jus-”

They pulled away to cover their face in guilt, on the verge of crying and pleading to make it up to you, but you stopped them in their thoughts, it being your turn to hug them.

“it's okay, baby. just.. don't sweat it, it's the thought that counts.” You ignored your eye twitching, your arms around them unconsciously getting a bit tighter.

They felt themselves melt into the tight hold of your arms, their nerves starting to wash away in relief that you weren't angry at them. 

Their emotions almost hit them all at once like a bulldozer.

“i shouldn't have touched your things in the first place… i-i just thought you'd trust me and I could do something to make you happ-"

“sloan, it's okay, ya know? whatever it is you did with those jars, just…” you suppressed your eye twitches, trying so hard to not think about the dedication you put into some water, “i-its no biggie, you're good, i still love you.”

“man, i love you too.. i reeaallyy don't deserve you, mi vida..” They let themselves lean even more into your hold, the both of you hugging each other for a quiet minute.

The tension slowly going away between you two was nice, and you once again wished you could hold Sloan like this forever.

“oh! right!!! i still should uh-! s-show you what i used them for, since they're not actually gone or anything!” They suddenly pulled away, shuffling in their giant pockets.

“i dunno if i did it right.. or if it's silly? b-but i figured uh.. try my hands at charging some freshly mined crystals for you this time! (つ≧▽≦)つ” 

They guided you to the kitchen, pulling out the jars from their pockets and placing them on the dining table.

“o-oh?!? woah! they're..??!? still covered and everything, hello!??” You covered your mouth in surprise, not actually expecting to see the jars again.

“y-yeah! i didn't even know you kept them for so long but i.. i knew it was important that the sunlight didn't touch them, so i thought it'd be.. nice if i gave you these beauties with all of the energy from the water poured into them already! that's.. how that works right..?”

“awwwhh, slooann..!!” You gushed, the smile on your face already hurting your cheeks.

“l-listen! it's probably better when you do it, since you have those magical witchy hands n’ stuff.. but i wanted to show you how cool i think you are by taking after what you do!! if it's.. weird or anything though, then uh.. ill jus- mph!”

You cut them off with your lips against theirs, holding their face and letting the wave of relieved honor take over your body.

The fluttering in your chest was from realizing how much thought they were putting into these little gifts for you, and it helped wipe away any lingering frustrations you previously had with them.

You tried not to dwell on your own rightful confused anger with feeling bad, clinging to the advice Niran gave you.

It was better to just focus on what things really were right now, and this? This wasn't a case purely of stealing or foolishness, it was just Sloan trying to do something meaningful for you.

It was already sweet that they brought back raw crystals for you from work all the time simply because they knew you liked them, not to mention how expensive and hard they are to acquire normally.. 

But, to actually try and charge and cleanse them for you too? 

Trying to replicate what they've watched you do with gemstones and water before?

They might as well have proposed on the spot.

You pulled away, wrapping your arms around their neck and kissing all over their face.

“i take back everything i said, muah, i’m sorry for being mad at you, muah, i love you so much, mwuah muah, thank you, mwuah~ (づ￣ ³￣)づ”

“so worth it~.. ⊂(￣▽￣)⊃” was all they managed to get out, their eyes practically swirling at all of your kisses.

With one last ‘mwuah!’, you ruffled their hair and went to checking the jars that made it back home.

“oh my goshh, you found citrine??”

“ooh, there's some amethyst here too!”

“wahh, selenite?!!? gosh, you're spoiling me, sloan! ~(˘▽˘)~”

You excitedly inspected the glasses, raising them above your head to look inside of the dark jars without removing their coverings.

Sloan stood there proudly, their hands on their hips and a cheesy grin on their face. They were so relieved that you weren't mad at them.

“i’m glad you like them!! :D, there's some more in my bag for you, ya know, the usual~ (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧”

“aawwhh, thank you baby! i’m so so so sorry i was even mad at you at all (*_ _)人” 

You buried your face into their chest, wrapping your arms around them again.

“nono, IM sorry i made you worry like that,” they kissed your forehead, “i really should've just asked you first and.. maaayybee do this without.. OH! THAT REMINDS ME, BABY LOOK!!”

They reached in their pocket with one hand, the other still holding you back by the waist, and pulled out one last jar.

“you totally aren't gonna be ready for THIS one!!”

Something about this made you feel uneasy in the moment, but you swallowed Niran’s words once more, trusting in your partner.

“BEHOLD, SLOAN’S SPECIALLY SUPER CHARGED JAR OF CELES..stine?”

They whipped out the glass of what was supposed to have the blue crystal in it, expecting it to be a glorious reveal… but, it was just strangely darker than the rest of the covered jars.

“huh, guess it's just.. a bit more shyer than the other rocks?” They tilted their head, letting go of you to gently knock at the jar. You watched with another jar in hand, ready to compare the two.

“heeelloooo? any celestine hoomee? hmph, i can definitely feel it in there though..” They held it to the ceiling and practically pressed their eyeball against the glass.

“it's like it's not in there.. but, it feels like it is?!” They swished around the jar, deciding to place it on the table with another ‘hmm..’

“maybe it's the cloth? let's just.. go ahead and pull that off then!”

“wait- sloan no it’ll toucH THE SUNLIGH-”

You tried to stop them, but their hands were already quick to remove the clothed lid and reveal the stone.

“wait shit no i’m so sorry i didn't me-”

“wooaahh..” You gasped and picked up the jar, mesmerized by the piece of celestine. 

It glimmered in such a way that you've never seen before, making you immediately forget about the actual water around it touching sunlight.

“it's.. it's beautiful, sloan..” You held it up to eye level, your eyes sparkling at the glittery gemstone before you.

“h-how’d you even.. find something like this? it's.. like it's glowing~..” It had you hypnotized, struggling to take your eyes off of it.

“i.. uhh.. surprise..??” They were also lost in the stone, the way it shimmered all sorts of colors and lights in the water seemed like magic. It wasn't this glamorous when they had found it.

“here sloan, look at it! did you.. really find this.. for me?”

You quickly shoved the jar into their hands, puppy eyeing at them for bringing you something so beautiful.

“o-of course, mi amor! it's my proudest find for you so far, so it's-” They froze, both of your eyes widening at the stone.

It felt like it all happened in slow motion, the way you both stopped to stare at what was happening in the glass.

The piece of celestine was… dissolving.

“wh- huh?? wait noo- this- this isn't good- w-why is it.. melting??!?”

The split second they had started holding it, the crystal dissipated. 

In a natural panic, they quickly placed it back on the counter, the water in the jar now being misty and clouded.

“hmm.. celestine isn't meant to rest in water but… it hasn't been that long since you put it in there, right?”

“l-like, only an hour or two, yeah?! b-but.. something feels weird..!” They started holding their own face in a panic, panting.

“it shouldn't have dissolved that quickly the- wait, are you okay?!? should I call someone??!”

“y/n.. i-i. i don't know! something'sdefinitelywrongandmystomachfeels-”

They suddenly covered their mouth, slowly looking at you with wide eyes.

“..’feels’? feels WHAT??, baby?!!? what's wrong??”

You joined in on their panic, bringing them close.

They tried holding a finger up, only to push you away and dash to a trash can, scurrying back to you with it in hand..

Then, they hovered over it.

“bleurg- ☁️💨”

“h-holy shit, sloan?? eurgh, sloan?!?!?”

As soon as they tried vomiting, the whole kitchen was smoked out in an instant, leaving you coughing and desperately swatting at the heavy air.

After about 10 seconds, the smoke started going away, revealing to you a trash can with.. no Sloan to be found.

“wh.. what..? even happened..?? where's-” You stopped yourself, something telling you to check the trash can.

Peering inside, you saw them.

Sloan was inside of the trash can, hand-sized, looking up at you. (・u・)

“o-oh.. my god.”

✯ if you've made it this far, tysm for reading again!

✯ im planning on proofreading and rewriting the other parts (again, and if im motivated enough), but how would yall feel about me posting little drabbles here and there?

✯ feel free to hit my line abt it, or anything in general, i dont bite ! >:)

✯ the link for part 4 will go here soon, and here are the borders used!

✯ enjoy your day/night! stay hydrated, love venture.. LOVE THE SILLY!! <3

[carionto]

"So Basically... You Work For Cthulhu?"

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6

Trisha was the first to break the strange silence after Iorvan had finished explaining in the most vague terms possible what his purpose here was.

"That is a very crude and inaccurate oversimplification, but yes." with a hint of irritation in his voice, he agreed to her assessment. "The High Priest is all knowing on matters that matter, yet every now and then a "nothing", as beings of such magnitude view mortals like us, will happen upon the right combination of irrelevant information to form new true knowledge."

"Like the million monkey typewriters writing Shakespeare!" Trisha energetically interjected. "So why not just scry or whatever they do every brain and pluck out all the good info?" she questioned.

"As I said, we are "nothings" to them, and though their capabilities are beyond our understanding, they are not without limits, and observing billions of human minds is just incomprehensible static, I imagine." Iorvan looked directly at Trisha, "How much effort would you say it would take to comprehend your thoughts alone, Trisha?"

"Good point, I don't bother doing that half the time myself." she replied eagerly without a second thought.

Chief Engineer Tameki, very clearly confused, finally gathered herself enough, "Wait, please. So why are you here? What does any of that even mean?"

"C'mon ira, keep up, it's not that complicated." Trisha seemed to be more surprised by everyone else's apparent confusion than everyone else was by how she wasn't.

"Us going through a tear in space-time made the universe glitch out. You know, the quantum entanglement thing breaking when it shouldn't and some mumbo-jumbo about our spiritual selves being in two places at once or something. Oh yeah, souls are a thing, but only sorta? Did I get that right, Prof? To Cthulhu it looked like we duplicated our ethereal form and that should not be a thing that anyone can do, so they took notice and sent you here to investigate."

"In the simplest and most inaccurate terms, but correct." Iorvan, now more composed after accepting that Trisha's brain functioned imperfectly enough to somehow comprehend his altered understanding of the true nature of the world. Well, changed by as much knowledge as the High Priest deemed essential to impart onto him.

He continued, adjusting his own explanation to match the intellectual level of the subjects. "Such an unprecedented occurrence will not go unnoticed by the rest of the Old Ones, and the consequences for this event originating directly from the High Priest's physical domain are unpredictable, hence the unprecedented intervention you see before you in my form."

He continued, "In the simplest acceptable terms possible - the actions you took to arrive here must be reversed. I was granted all relevant knowledge about the hybrid warp engine, however, the local domain here is inaccessible and information must be retrieved manually. What is the status of it and all related matters?" Iorvan addressed the question with an icy stare towards everyone on the bridge.

Ira, with a slight look of worry, answered: "It didn't come with us when we warped. Because of the instantaneous nature of the transportation, it couldn't send any data about itself during or after the warp."

At this, the unofficial head IT guy, Valencio, chimed in, "Well, it's not impossible that whatever energy discharge that did happen couldn't have sent some signal to the nearest connected devices. The warp cut every quantum connection, but some of them were connected with a hardline, right?"

"That is true, the Dusk was printed at a military shipyard," Haespar Kraus, having found something sensible to cling to, was finally able to feel useful. "Short range redundancies like that are always integrated, even with unconventional designs like the hybrid warp engine. We'll just need to retrieve them and look at their final logs-"

"D O S O !"

The bridge, which had begun to regain a bit of life, was stunned silent by Iorvan suddenly echoing this command in a voice that came not just from his mouth, but also the walls, the floor, ceiling, and even right behind everyone's heads.

While Trisha, once again, composed herself first, even she was unnerved by the ominous aura Iorvan was exuding.

"A-alright, Prof. No need to be all evil occult on us. You're human too, or were at least. You know pressure like that isn't the most productive, yeah? So, like, chill. Please?"

His dagger-like stare towards her did not diminish, but his presence on the bridge did become less intense.

"Find the answer. Deliver it to me in one year. My own visit to this foreign domain will not go unnoticed, but the High Priest accepted this price. The knowledge you obtain, however, MUST be worthwhile. It is, after all, a trivial matter for any Old One to simply erase all "nothings" that have made themselves known in a... negative light."

With those final words, the form of Professor Iorvan evaporated into a mist.

"Back to 27..." came Emily's voice after a moment of sobering silence.

"So, uhh..." Trisha felt the need to fill the air with something productive, "basically, if we don't figure out what exactly happens during a warp, everyone back home is gonna die. Umm... let's go get those data thingies?" with uncertainty, she looked at everyone on the bridge.

Haespar, wanting to keep his image of the sensible cool headed one, picked up the baton Trisha had almost dropped, "Yes, well, that is something we were going to do eventually anyway, it's just been bumped up the list. Ira, Valencio - will you need anything not currently here for a full warp simulation once we get whatever may exist in those terminals?" he regained his actual composure as he faked the first few sentences, and was now in his serious mode.

"There's not enough computing power hooked together with the quantum computers being all blank, and we'll need either one fully powered reactor running on overload for half a day, or get a second one back up." Valencio counted each though on his fingers, an old habit.

"Good. Emily will head that, everyone else will have to postpone your previous tasks." Haespar declared. "Ira? Ira!" Haespar approached her with worry. "With Knoslark being a grumpy baby, and Sergeant Zhao still in a coma, by rank, you're the de-facto leader. It's a lot to take in, but what are we going to do. Cthulhu is real. Magic is real. Souls are real. New information, sure. World upending even, but that doesn't change what reality is right now for us. So, please, don't break down on me. It's just one thing at a time, just like any other problem we've dealt with before."

Ira Tameki took a deep breath. Then another. After a moment, she looked over everyone on the bridge.

"Right, you heard Haespar, but I have one correction - I'll be heading the reactor repair and re-ignition. Emily, you take everyone you need and retrieve those terminals and any other digital and electronic devices close to where the warp engine was, even damaged ones. Extract everything.

Valencio, start working on the simulation code, you'll have all the computing and raw power needed, I'll make sure of that." she saw the uncertainty and nervousness on some of the junior crew members' faces.

"It's going to be a long year, but we already did the impossible once - we broke physics and traveled thirteen billion light years in zero zeptoseconds. Let's figure out how and get ourselves back home."

[vvluvmai]

hi bae what if i requested a. dan heng x gn reader. uh. fluffy drabble teeeheee like slice of lifey w him <33

Omg yes yes, this might be a little short because i ran out of ideas and my brain stopped working :(( (and guys I definitely didn't go into yuzu's askbox first to ask them to request hehe-)

𝑭𝑺𝑴 ✩ 𝑨 𝑺𝑳𝑰𝑪𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑳𝑰𝑭𝑬

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤᥕᥲrᥒ . Some parts may be inaccurate?, gn reader

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤsᥙm .How life with Dan heng would be (requested <3)

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤᥴһᥲr . Dan Heng

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤᥕord coᥙᥒt . 823

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ☕︎⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

𐑺 Life with Dan heng would be relaxing at most, with his calm and composed nature, arguments are kept low.

But of course, every couple isn't free from little disagreements, coming up with petty little fights, but calling yours arguments would be a dumb choice, which really are little witty comments, playful ones, being thrown at eachother in a playful manner.

𐑺 Knowing of his blunt nature, if the two of you live in different housings, it's common for him to be at your door, ringing the bell, with a simple, plain, excuse of "I can't sleep", just to be with his lover.

No matter how far you live away, Dan heng always makes it possible to visit you from long distances

𐑺 Sometimes, such excuses are used, he'd wake up from nightmares, sweating profusely, rushing to your door, wearing his shoes, pants and a button down, he'd ring the door in a panic.

Which of course, never fails to wake you up and rush downstairs.

𐑺 He's had his troubles, letting him cry into your shoulder is the best option available, comfort him please, this poor baby has had enough 😭

𐑺 For when the two of you live together and he yet again wakes up from a nightmare, and you aren't in the bed with him?

Instant death, he rummages through the entirety of the house, yelling your name.

You rushed back to him, explaining how you couldn't sleep and decided to catch up on some fresh air, staring at the sky's beautiful tears, which are the stars.

𐑺 omg when you bring him to gaze at the sky together to comfort him?

This man will give his life to you I swear

𐑺 Gifts are uncommon, but it's usual, fancy and expensive gifts are rare, with bouquet of roses he may or may not have stolen from the neighbour's backyard.. are most common.

𐑺 Something tells me that this man knows way too much about what a flower means and what the different types of colour mean 😭

𐑺 On missions, it's always usual for you to send the message first, due to him being so busy, he's not able to text first.

He's a focused man, meaning, he sometimes forgets to text his lover back or first.

𐑺 But worry not! He always comes home with plenty of sweets and gifts to enjoy, the biggest gift being him and his sweet voice whispering sweet nothings and sorrys into your ear <33

𐑺 He loves calm areas, so expect dates to be set at quiet areas, such as flower fields, libraries, etc etc

𐑺 Amazing cook tbh, while he lacks baking experience, his dumplings are to DIE for

You would be walking into the cafeteria knowing your food is the best out of everyone

𐑺 Will and shall make a bubble bath for you when you get home stressed and tired.

𐑺 Don't think he will leave you in the bubble bath all by yourself now <3

This man is obsessed with your hair and how smooth it is, so expect him to play with your hair for endless hours <33

𐑺 Loves to embrace you anywhere and everywhere, but never outside the comfort of your home.

𐑺 Yup, he's not a big pda guy :(

𐑺 But he will hold your hand though <3

Rubbing soothing circles on your palm with his thumb when in a crowd or a long stressful event, sometimes, even kissing your hand when the eyes of the people are on their phones.

But never over that.

𐑺 Please be interested in his hobbies, such as reading, he will literally cry from the effort and appreciation

𐑺 Speaking of the topic reading, if you lose the ability to sleep, he whispers stories, or sometimes read a book you might be interested in.

If you are intrigued but fell asleep, he will continue the story the next night <3

𐑺 Some nights are of freezing temperatures, which you may think result in you being the little spoon but no

This man can't handle the cold, so let him sleep as the little spoon plsplsplsplsplspls

𐑺 After warm baths, he falls asleep as soon as he hits the bed, with you cuddling him.

As you whisper sweet nothings into his ear, just like he does, his mind is kept worry-free, from nightmares and other hazards, his dreams being as loving as you, sometimes, resulting a dream of where the two are married, living the Disney life of happily ever after. A small smile and blush creeping up his face, which you didn't fail to notice.

"What must you be dreaming of now my little prince?" You sighed out in a whisper, causation of to not wake him of his wonderful dream.

You fell asleep as he moved closer to you.

Both figures relishing in eachother's warm embrace, keeping them at comfort. Knowing tomorrow will be the start of another week.

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