#bad gifs made quickly but had to do this parallel

[mountkennedie]

Late Nights

Edward Cullen x reader

Summary: you have a cozy night with edward

warnings: none

A.N. this quickly became one of my favorite fics ever written

"Edward?" You asked. Currently you splayed out horizontally on your bed on a cool fall day. The sweater you were wearing provided you an extra dose of comfort to the general energy of the room. Edward, your boyfriend, was laid parallel to you. His dark blue sweater matched yours. The color coordinating plaid fleece pajamas were also a nice touch on the pair of you. It was something cute you've always wanted to do, couple twinning. And Edward was willing to do whatever to make you happy.

"Yes?" He maintained a easy going smile while looking at you. You had been rereading A Wrinkle In Time. An easy read of course, but always put your mind at peace. Edward didn't have a book to read or really anything to pass time. He says he is perfectly content in your company, but you still wonder what he would be doing had you not been here. Probably pressing those same piano keys in infinite rhythms until disturbed.

"What is your favorite color?" A very innocent question. But what is the harm in that? The both of you have shared some crushing memories and experiences, you may as well know the mundane as well.

His smile grew and his eyebrows knitted. "Blue. Why do you ask?" He didn't have a genuine serious undertone behind the question. He was always trying to learn the way you were. Being unable to read your mind made you a puzzle he reveled in attempting to crack. Every time he would expect you to act in a certain way, you gave him a surprise in return.

"I was curious," you turn on your side and face him. Edward being Edward, he mirrors you. "You seem like a lover of blue. But I could also see a deep green. Like forest green," your voice was kept quiet. The wind looting the leaves can still be heard as you speak. You didn't need to speak so soft, your family was away for the night. You could scream for all that mattered, however keeping a small vocal presence felt appropriate. Anything louder than a calm word would be disturbing the peace of the environment.

His face pinched up for a moment, but then returned to his normal expression. "I fell out of love for green a long while ago. Blue is so rarely seen here, at least in the sky," he finished that quip with a cheesy smile. "Blue being rare has given itself a new place of importance," his eyes glanced down to your sweater then back into you, "in my heart."

Your bodies both hanged off different ends of the bed, luckily your heads were in the same placement. So when you lifted your hand to rest on his cheek, it wasn't a far reach. Your thumb brushed the cool skin, Edwards eyes never left yours for a moment. The golden iris' were filled with adoration. His hand came to rest on yours. The chill adding to the comfort he was already bestowing.

"What do you think mine is?" You whispered.

"Purple, for sure," he answered without even thinking. And of course he was right.

"Asking Alice counts as cheating," he leaned into your hand and chuckled. The kiss he left on the palm made you smile a little harder than you already had been.

"I didn't cheat," he spoke into your hand. "Everywhere we go shopping, your eyes are drawn to the same three colors. Green, black and purple, with a special affinity for purple. Oh and you wear a lot of purple in the pictures of you on your family's mantle."

"Am I that easy to read?" He pressed another kiss to your palm. He shook his head lightly at your comment.

"If only," he joked. After his joke the wind picked up outside, this time accompanied by a steady flow of rain. You sat up and looked at him, he copied you once again.

"If you ran home fast enough, how wet would you be? Would you even get wet?" He listened to your questions while helping fix your hair that had flattened due to laying down.

"Well I would get wet regardless. Probably not too bad but definitely damp." He finished his work and pulled you close to him so your entire body faced him. "And is this your way of kicking me out?" He chuckled again at his smart remark.

"It is very thoughtful that you worry on the safety of a hundred year old vampire." He placed a kiss to your eyelid, "I'd be sure not to run too fast. And I am fully comfortable staying in for the night. But," his voice matched your previous tone, "you must sleep tonight. I want 8 full hours."

"No you are staying." You threw your arms over his shoulders, your faces a few inches apart. "I don't want you outside, especially running in this weather. The roads are slippery," your tone changed to one more serious.

"I was going to sleep!" you argued. "...once I finished the next chapter of my book," you hoped the small smile you sent him would win him over.

"Of the book you've reread numerous times?" You didn't respond, only looked at him and shrugged. "Fine," he always gave in to you. "At least let me read it to you."

You smiled and got comfortable under your covers. You pulled back your comforter for him to join you underneath. He smiled and shook his head. But still wanting to do whatever makes you happy, climbed in. You clung onto his arm, he responded by kissing your head. You were convinced he read the book in a soft, quiet voice on purpose. Because no matter how strong your will to finish the chapter, you still were whisked away into sleep.

[bohemianblasphemy]

“Feel this? It’s just for you”. Gawd I need that so bad!

I’m so sorry for lack of posting yall - my course is getting busy and I’m in a bit of a mental health slump but here we go MORE BUTCHER✨

Another late night at the iron building had come again - research after research, another piece of paper to file away, it was an endless rabbit hole of corruption and scandal when it came to taking Vought down.

The quiet clicks of your keyboard filled your little corner of the office, your eyes often drifting to the desk parallel to you where Billy sat. His focus was on his computer monitor, scrolling through his folders upon folders of information.

Seeing his eyes dart back and forth, his head in his palm to hold himself up, index finger placed on his upper lip and running over his moustache… you couldn’t help but stare.

Your gaze didn’t go noticed by him, his eyes quickly darting over to you which made your heart skip- having been caught.

“You right there?” His voice was gravelly- a sly smirk spreading across his face, his question bouncing off the walls of the once still room.

“Sorry…” you mumbled, turning your attention back to the computer monitor. Billy chuckles to himself, switching off his device.

Pushing his chair out from his desk he grabbed his bottle of whiskey that he had on display, pulling two glasses from his drawers.

“Care for a drink with me? You’ve been workin’ hard all day…” he poured his own drink, looking over to you for your answer. “Yeah, thanks Billy…” you smiled softly at him, turning off your own computer and stepping away from your desk.

Billy grunted in acknowledgment, pouring you a glass and passing it to you as you walked toward him. Taking a sip of the brown liquor, the burn of the alcohol slid down your throat causing you to cough, making Butcher laugh softly as he tossed back his drink as if it were water.

“Cmon love surely that little sip didn’t make ya cough like that.” He teased.

“Shut up, butcher.” You replied back sarcastically. The second sip you took going down smoother but the grimace still appeared on your face.

Butchers eyes never left your body as he poured himself another glass, drinking you in. Watching the way you stood nursing your whiskey, giving him the odd nervous glance in which he found himself admiring.

You both stood there, sipping your drinks in the stillness- occasionally interrupted by sounds of the streets below.

“You know love…” he broke the silence and stepped forward toward you, looking down at you.

“I see the way ya look at me…” he was close enough to you to feel his hot breath on your cheek, the lingering scent of alcohol on him.

The look in his eyes made your heart race, your breath hitching in your throat. “Billy…” you croaked making him smirk, knowing what he was doing to you was making you got.

Taking your glass and placing it on the table next to you, he pulled you into him by the waist. The desire between you two was undeniable, your hands pressed against his muscular chest and his lingering along your hips and backside.

Billy could see the want in your blown out pupils, pressing himself against you- hearing you gasp as you could feel his hardened cock against your pelvis.

He took one of your hands that was on his chest, running it down his abdomen- feeling the soft material of his shirt before guiding it further down to the rough texture of his jeans and placing your palm right where he wanted you most, feeling him twitch under your touch.

“Feel this?” He whispered in your ear, leaving soft kisses along the side of your neck. “It’s just for you…”

You sighed softly at his words, a shiver of lust tingling in your spine. He brought his head back up to look at you, seeing your eyes filled with a mixture of suprise and longing, making your cheeks flush a dark shade of red.

“Now now, don’t get all shy on me love…” he cooed, bringing his hand up to your face. His thumb caressed your chin, gently playing with your bottom lip.

His action encouraged a small whimper from you, making him chuckle.

“Ya want me sweetheart? Ya want me as much as I want you?” His lustful timbre rang in your ears, awakening every single nerve in your body.

His embolden comment caused you to become bold, looking up at him with challenge and want filling you to the brim.

“I want you bad…” you breathed, your hand still on his length as you squeezed him gently, causing a growl from within him and sending butterflies to your stomach.

Without hesitation he closed the distance between you both, encapsulating your lips with his in a fiery embrace. You were both hungry, feral for each other’s touch.

His hands gripped under your ass, lifting you up and placing you upon the wooden desk behind you- laying you down as his fingers fiddling with the fastening of your pants and underwear pulling them down your legs, discarding them to the floor.

Butcher soon reached for his own jeans and undid them, pulling them down enough for his cock to spring free before returning to you- looking at you laid out on the desk with your legs spread, tracing his digits along your inner thigh toward your glistening cunt.

A small gasp left his mouth as he felt your wetness, fingers rubbing between your folds and circling your clit- his eyes flickering to your face seeing you bite your lip at his touch.

“That’s just for you…” you whispered, echoing his words from earlier. He suddenly stopped, letting another growl fall from his throat as he moved forward, sliding his dick along your folds gathering your wetness.

“Damn fuckin’ right it’s just f’me…” he grumbled, tapping your clit with his tip and making your hips jolt, slowly drifting himself down to your entrance and pushing into you slowly.

You gasped and held onto the edge of the desk, feeling him fill you to the brim as you let out a deep sigh, adjusting to his length.

“P-please butcher, please move… I need it.” You asked, butcher happily obliging as he snapped his hips into yours. He dragged his thumb down to your clit, circling it for extra stimulation.

The sound of slapping skin and grunts from the both of you filled the room, endless profanity bounced off the walls as Butcher railed into you.

“B-Billy!” You whined, your head falling back as you felt the warmth within your stomach build, thighs quivering around him as you neared your orgasm.

“Fuckin’ cum f’me love, I wanna feel you cum on my cock.” Butcher grunted, loving the way your walls clenched around him. His thumb continued to circle you as you came hard, hearing your strangled sounds echo through the room.

His thrusts became laboured as you came on him, his cock twitching as he came deep inside you with a gutteral moan.

Butcher stood there for a moment to admire your flushed face and parted lips, humming softly as he pulled you up to sit at the edge of the desk, kissing you like there was no tomorrow.

“Butcher…” you whispered, looking up at him as you pulled away from the kiss. “Shhh… just kiss me.” He replied back, bringing you in for another kiss, holding you in his embrace- the outside world seeming to be put on pause as you were entwined with one another, not letting go.

[a-aexotic]

request for rafe:

rafe is being oddly quiet when everyone in his friend group is pestering him about getting a one night stand. Reader walks in and he just goes all starry eyed, but he doesn’t wanna admit he loves her even though… its so obvious. (grumpy x sunshine)

(love your work, i hope you’re doing well 🫶🏻)

pairing. rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings. fluff!!!, ooc rafe, mention of weed + alcohol, one kiss at the end, lmk if i missed anything!

summary. rafe has the biggest crush on y/n, when topper finds out he decides to help his best friend get with the girl of his dreams.

��� missing out on updates? ❪ navigation. masterlist. taglist. ❫

Rafe had just about enough of his friends. It'd been months since he'd had a girl over and they were starting to worry. Why had he suddenly just stopped liking girls?

Topper was worrying maybe Rafe was about to just end it all. He knew Rafe wouldn't actually but they hadn't seen Rafe this sober in years.

"Dude, she's checking you out." Topper whispered to Rafe. He looked over at the girl and she was indeed checking him but he immediately gave her the cold shoulder and turned away.

Topper was confused. She was pretty; nice bathing suit, pretty eyes, a big ass. What more could Rafe want?

"Nah, I'm good, man." Rafe sighed as leaned back into his chair. He had eyes for one girl and one girl only, and she wasn't there yet. Topper furrowed his brows.

"Dude, what? She's a total catch, I mean, look at that-"

Rafe cut him off with a glare making Topper scoff and turn away. Was something wrong? He was getting more and more worried about Rafe.

"Dude, you okay?" Topper mumbled. They were at this fun party, hot girls everywhere, weed everywhere and he doesn't want anything at all. That wasn't like Rafe at all.

Rafe rolled his eyes and groaned in annoyance. Topper's nagging was really getting on his nerves. "Yes. I am. I just don't want to fuck every single girl I see, okay?"

"What about smoking?"

"I don't want to anymore, okay? That shit's bad for your lungs." He remembers you telling one of your friends that you hated smoking because of how bad it was for your health.

Hearing Rafe say that made Topper fully think he had somehow shifted into a different parallel universe. This was not the Rafe he'd known since third grade. This was a doppelganger because no way in hell that Rafe Cameron just insisted that smoking was bad for your health. Topper's jaw was on the floor.

Rafe looked back at Topper with an annoyed expression but quickly shifted his gaze to someone behind him. His expression morphed into a delighted one.

There you were, with all your glory. Pink tube top, light blue jean shorts with your iconic white high-top converse. His cheeks had begun to turn pink as Topper had to where he was looking and suddenly it clicked. Rafe had a crush.

You were greeting your friends and Rafe caught your eye. You sent a happy wave his way and he gratefully answered with another wave.

Topper smirked and then looked back at Rafe. "Oh, I see what's going on here."

Rafe's expression dropped as he turned to Topper. "What?"

"You like Y/N."

Rafe rolled his eyes. "You just realized that, dude?"

Topper was again, shocked, by Rafe for the second time tonight. Rafe admitting his feelings? Where was Rafe and what was this imposter doing in his place?

"I mean, who wouldn't. She's gorgeous and smart. I just wish she wasn't so nice, it's making it harder to bond with her." Rafe mumbled the last part, making Topper nod along.

Topper had known Rafe essentially all his life and he's never been whipped for any girl. He wanted to know why she was so special. "Can I help?"

"No." Rafe said simply, making Topper scoff.

"I'm really friendly, man. I can like, help you, trust me." Topper put his hand on Rafe's shoulder and squeezed it. "Do you have her number?"

"No, I don't. I've been trying to send her an dm but I feel like that's not classy enough. Plus she probably has like 100 other guys in her dm's, I wanna stand out." Rafe ranted, genuinely perplexed.

Topper sighed, "you're making it way too hard. Just go up to her."

Rafe turned to Rafe, glaring daggers his way. "It's not that easy."

"Yes, it is. It's really not that hard. She's just a girl." Topper spoke, like it was the easiest thing ever.

"Just a girl?!-"

"Shh, Rafe. Get up and talk to her, be a man." Topper pushed Rafe up and away from the chair, making Rafe grumble. He noted to make sure to punch Topper for that later.

He looked for you at the party, Topper's voice echoing in his mind. Be a man, be a man, be a man. Rafe turned a corner and then there you were, sitting with your friends. He felt his heart drop and Topper's voice was fading. He was just standing there, like an idiot.

You turned and you saw him standing there and you had a big smile on your face. You excused yourself from your friends and walked over to him.

He immediately whipped his gaze to the seat next to him and sat there immediately, trying to look like he was doing something. He wanted to face palm himself; when did he become such an awkward guy? He was usually so smooth, especially with girls.

"Hey." He recognized your voice and his heart skipped a beat as he turned to face you. How could someone be so pretty?

Rafe cleared his throat as he smiled. "Hi."

You took a seat next to him. "Noticed you just standing there, I was wondering where Topper was? He's usually always with you."

He groaned subconsciously at the mention of Topper. "He's clingy."

You laughed at that. "Yeah, but that's okay. That's kinda cute."

"Topper? Cute?" Rafe stumbled out. Did you like Topper? He made a disgusted face at that; how could a 10 like you, end up with a 3 like Topper?

"No, he's..." You tried to find the right wording. "He's okay." You tried not be mean, he was attractive - but not you.

Rafe relaxed at that. "Yeah, he is. He's just okay, I don't know how anyone could find him attractive."

You laughed but instantly stopped yourself, "that's mean." You still had a smile on your face. Rafe smiled at that.

"Why are you just sitting here alone?"

Rafe shrugged, "Topper was getting on my nerves. He, uh... wanted me to smoke."

You furrowed your brows in disgust. "Wow, did you?"

He shook his head in slight delight. "Nope. Smoking isn't for me."

"Wow, I'm glad to see someone not succumb to peer pressure, good for you." You smiled knowingly.

You've known Rafe since middle school; you know he loves smoking, you've seen him scream and break a chair in half then jump into the pool: no sober person would do that. You weren't mad that he lied to you, you found it sort of endearing.

"Yeah." He nodded. "It's just like, really bad for your lungs."

You couldn't help but giggle at his words: he was literally you quoting word for word, not deliberately. It's so cute. "God, you're so cute."

You both stopped at stared at each other for a few seconds. A blush rose from Rafe as you felt your heart literally stop.

"You think I'm cute?" Rafe spoke quietly, an octave above a whisper. You could barely hear him.

You couldn't get yourself out this one. You couldn't just lie, might as well just rip the band-aid off. You nodded. "Yeah, well you are."

"I am?"

You laughed at that, trying not to turn red from embarrassment. "Yes, Rafe. You're cute."

"You're cute, too." Rafe felt like a little kid confessing to his crush and he was scared of rejection, he was avoiding your gaze. I mean, you already had confessed.

You found it adoring how shy he was. Like mentioned, you'd known him since he was a kid and you've watched him grow. He was always confident and it was a sweet how shy he was all because of you.

You grabbed his hand and his skin began feeling hot as he looked back up you. Your hand was just as soft as he imagined it would be. You both made eye contact. Rafe's eyes kept wandering down to your lips, then back to your eyes. It was a silent gesture of saying 'kiss me.' As you were leaning in, you heard a shout from behind.

You both turned to see Kelce and Topper. They walked towards you both, a huge smile on their faces. Rafe's anger was radiating from his body; he could not believe his jackass friends just ruined his almost kiss with you.

"Wow! My plan worked, Rafe. You guys are holding hands now, see! Told ya being a man worked." Topper was obviously drunk and oblivious to the awkwardness he was causing. Kelce nodded.

"I didn't know you liked Y/N, man. The more you know." Kelce talked to Rafe. He turned to you with a smile. "I don't blame you, dude, you are gorgeous."

You nodded and smiled at that. "Thank you, Kelce. I appreciate it." You know he didn't mean it in a weird or creepy way, so you found it endearing.

He cleared his throat. "You dumbasses are ruining my moment. Can you guys fucking leave?" He whispered to them, trying to make sure that you didn't hear it. But you were pretty close to him so you could.

Kelce and Topper looked at each other, then you, then back at Rafe. They nodded. "Okay, bye Y/N."

They both left and Rafe turned his attention back to you. "See what I'm dealing with? They act like fucking children, I swear."

"Rafe."

"What?" He turned to you and you put your hand on his face, leaning in to plant a single kiss on his lips. He was so caught off guard but when you pulled away, he instantly wanted more.

You smiled. "Let me give you my number."

"Y-Yeah, sure." He was still in shock, stumbling over his words, the taste of your lipgloss still on your lips. He handed you his phone.

You looked down at in and smiled. "You have to unlock it." You held in your laugh at how out of order he was just because of one kiss. He took his phone back, opening it with Face ID. He gave it back to you.

You put in your number and then put in your name. You then opened his camera, snapping a quick picture then putting it as your contact picture.

You gave it back with a grin as you stood up. "Text me, okay?"

He nodded, "Sure. Yeah." As you walked away, he couldn't help but lick his lips and the taste of your lipgloss was still on it. He couldn't believe that just happened.

[sapphic-agent]

Why & How Katara is the Strongest Waterbender

The ATLA fandom is funny. Because if there's one member of the Gaang whose skills are continuously doubted, it's Katara's.

No one hesitates in saying that Toph is the strongest Earthbender in the world. Aang has always been maintained as a natural prodigy. Sokka's strategic intelligence and cleverness are never in question. Most people are positive that Zuko would have beaten Azula if she hadn't targeted Katara and hail him as a swords master.

But for some reason, it's always Katara whose proficiency is either called into question or severely downplayed.

Some are skeptical about the legitimacy of her becoming a master in a short time. Others are certain that her victories are due to plot manipulation. Both of these arguments that ATLA is a kids' show which pushed it into giving her the win.

(Funny how ATLA is the greatest piece of media ever read until it comes to anything pertaining Katara's character lmao)

So I wanted to take a minute to talk about the progression of her waterbending skills and how she became Master Katara.

Pre North Pole

The first time we really see Katara practice waterbending is in The Waterbending Scroll when she decides to show Aang her limited very skill set. She noticeably has a difficult time with her bending, whereas he seems to pick it up rather quickly.

As we know, Katara has never met another waterbender before. She has no idea what their bending is supposed to look or feel like. And that's reflected in the moves she shows Aang.

I want to draw attention to Katara's stance here. She's stiff, even a little awkward. She's standing where more like an Earthbender. We see this repeated when she's practicing the Water Whip.

Even later when she does perform the Water Whip correctly, there are still traces of this.

You know how Iroh learned to redirect lightning watching Waterbenders? Well, my assumption (at this point I'm 80% sure it's meant to canon) is that Katara learned most of her bending by watching Aang and the Earthbenders they met around the world.

It makes sense, right? They would have been the closest thing to Waterbenders she could have learned from. She even asked Aang to teach her in the first episode. So the start of her bending began with incorporating the forms of Air and Earth.

And we see the results of that in her fight with Pakku.

Fighting Pakku

Katara's fight with Pakku is a great demonstration of his visually. He's a master, so he's already proficient at "push and pull." Katara is not. She's done it before, but it's not her go-to style when she's fighting. And we can see it in this fight.

Again, her stance is firm. She either blocks his attacks or bats them away. She doesn't reinforce and redirect them like he does hers. She isn't fighting like a Waterbender, she's fighting like an Earthbender.

Not to say this is a bad thing. Pakku himself even admits that she's good even though they both know she can't beat him.

Why am I bringing this up? Because one thing about Katara that's overlooked is her adaptability. When she didn't have a waterbending teacher, she made do with observing Earthbenders. She picked up Pakku's teachings even better than Aang had. And going forward from here it really begins to shine in her bending.

She completely dominates Pakku's other students and Zuko (twice). Why? What makes her so special compared to men who have been training their whole lives?

Because water is the element of change. By being so proficient in adapting (not just in her bending, but openly embracing different things and experiences and people), Katara unknowingly embraced the mentality of her element.

(It's actually a funny twist of fate because you could make the point that the North held its other Waterbenders back by being so bound to and unflinching in their traditions. It would explain why none of Pakku's students even stood a chance against her)

If you think about it, you could draw parallel to Yue explaining the history of Waterbending to Katara to the Sun Warriors explaining fire as an element to Zuko. In both cases, you can see that they're able to see and understand their element in a new light. Although it's more of a realization moment for Katara as she already knew about pushing and pulling and it's more of a lesson for Zuko who was taught something completely different.

Katara vs Azula (Round 1)

You know how I said people attribute her wins due to plot manipulation because ATLA is a kids' show? Well it seems like Katara vs Azula is the scene they focus on the most for that.

But let's be real, this isn't a fluke. The show purposely draws attention to Katara prowess and skills during this fight.

Azula is someone who's always in control. She's someone who goes into fights with full confidence. But she is completely thrown off by Katara's abilities here.

And this is something that persists throughout the entire fight. Katara completely overpowers her. At no point during the fight did Azula have the upper hand against her.

And remember, this is Azula's fight. She's the one who imprisoned Katara and Zuko. She's the one who attacked Katara and Aang to begin with. Sure, she was probably counting on her manipulation of Zuko working and him backing her, but there was no guarantee that he would be able to get away from Aang long enough to help her.

And right after this, Aang really struggles against Azula. He doesn't own the fight nearly as well as Katara does.

So, we know it isn't a fluke. The creators intentionally made Katara outclass Azula here. She's canonically the superior bender between the two of them. And that's not a small feat by any means. Azula at this time is one of the best Firebenders alive, probably fourth (after Ozai, Iroh, and Jeong Jeong (she could possibly be above Jeong Jeong)).

So what was the reason for this? Why was Katara able to outclass Azula so effortlessly?

Well here's where Katara's mastery of the meaning of her element comes into play again. She understands and excels in the concept behind water. Always changing, always adapting. She embraces water to its fullest capabilities (which also includes incorporating other elements into it; water would actually be the best element to do this with). The entire fight, she's switching stances and forms and keeping Azula on the evade. Whatever Azula throws back is dealt with without an issue.

And as we know, Azula (and most Firebenders) misunderstand fire as an element. She uses it solely as a destructive force, but it's also energy, life, and passion. This is also part of the reason Zuko lost so easily in the Northern Water Tribe; he also had the same issue. Katara's proficiency in water as not just a weapon, but an element, gave her the advantage over Azula she needed.

Katara vs Hama

A debate that comes up a lot is who's the better bender between Katara and Amon. To that I have always said Amon was taught Bloodbending, Katara just did it.

Let me reiterate: NO ONE TAUGHT KATARA BLOODBENDING. Hama explained the concept to her, yes, but never actually taught her. In fact, she did not expect her to pick it up without guidance. In her own words, "You should've learned the technique before you turned against me."

This was a technique that took Hama decades to learn. Tarrlok and Noatak were trained relentlessly. And Katara just... Did it. No guidance and no build up. This supports that Katara's adaptability and versatility in her bending is unmatched. She's able to comprehend and perform advance concepts with no training or teaching.

Now that we got that out of the way, this fight is so comprable to Katara vs Pakku. This is the second time she's fought a master and we can see how much she's improved. So much so that she doesn't even struggle against Hama.

At this point, she's mastered "push and pull." She's able to take everything Hama throws at her and send it right back with little to no effort.

But she takes it a step further.

Instead of redirecting, Katara completely stops Hama's onslaught. This undoubtedly is something she picked up from Earthbenders. It certainly isn't a Waterbending technique, yet somehow she made it into an effective move.

Look at Hama's face. She's completely thrown off by this. This was not something she ever expected out of any Waterbender. She was completely unprepared for Katara to be able to outmatch and overpower her.

Katara completely surpassed her, solidified by using the technique she invented against her.

I was going to talk about Katara and Azula's second fight, but there isn't much to add there. I already compared the difference in their skills talking about the first fight, and the Agni Kai is an escalation of that. The outcome of the Agni Kai was already decided and confirmed in the catacombs.

And that my friends is how and why Katara is the best Waterbender in the world

[nihilityuniverse]

𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 | 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐱 𝐅𝐄𝐌! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ 𝗦𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝘁 𝗖𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿 ᴏꜰ ᴛᴇʏᴠᴀᴛ 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗙𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗕𝗼𝘀𝘀.

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MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

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Story inspired by Acheron's Lore, Power, and Personality...

ENG is not my First language

I do not own Genshin Impact or any of the pictures used.

Do NOT Repost

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Story is also available on Wattpad: Chapter 0 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

Chapter 0 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓

𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐦𝐬

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In the early morning at Liyue Harbor, the streets were alive with activity. People moved about with purpose, hanging posters that featured a silhouette of a lady adorned with delicate flowers.

As you continued down the cobbled streets, the scent of peach blossoms filled the air, mingling with the morning breeze. The community was busy planting peach-colored flowers, their vibrant hues adding a gentle blush to the town's decor.

Petals danced gracefully in the soft wind, landing on shop signs and gently fluttering down to rest on the ground. The air was fragrant with the sweet scent of peaches, creating a serene and uplifting atmosphere throughout the harbor.

You inhaled deeply, savoring the delicious fragrance that permeated the air. "Another festival, so soon after the Lantern Rite?" you murmured to yourself, intrigued by the bustling activity.

Your eyes landed on one of the many posters scattered around, depicting a figure reminiscent of the story the Traveler had shared with you - the nameless lady who, coincidentally, bore the same name as you. The realization made you suspicious; the parallels were too striking to ignore.

A sense of urgency welled up inside you, compelling you to uncover more about this ancient tale and your potential connection to it.

"Y/N!" Aether called out, running towards you with a tiny pixie flitting anxiously behind him. "Good morning," he greeted, his smile radiant.

"Aether! Why are you running like that?" the pixie, catching her breath, complained as she struggled to keep up.

"Good morning, Aether," you replied, stopping in your tracks, "Did you sleep well?"

Aether nodded, "Yes, I did. How about you?"

The pixie finally caught up, colliding with Aether's head. Just as she was about to voice her displeasure, her wide eyes locked onto you, and a look of horror crossed her face. "I-It's you!" she gasped, quickly darting behind Aether for cover. "How do you know her?"

"I met Y/N last night," Aether explained.

"In the night?" Paimon exclaimed, her eyes widening in shock. You crossed your arms and offered a reassuring look. "We just had a brief conversation, little one," you clarified.

"Paimon! My name is Paimon!" she huffed, puffing her cheeks while still peeking out from behind Aether's head.

"And Paimon remembers how scary and angry you were with Zhongli!" Paimon exclaimed. "Oh, right, I wanted to ask you about that," Aether added.

You began walking slowly, "It's a bit complicated, but I'm willing to explain," you said, passing by them. Aether and Paimon exchanged glances before falling into step beside you.

"I don't really know Zhongli. But when I first saw him, I felt like he was someone... significant," you said, searching for the right words. "...I felt like something bad had happened between us... But I don't know what."

"Something bad?" Paimon echoed, now more curious than afraid.

You glanced at her, then back at the bustling streets, "...My instincts told me that this man had caused me great pain. That's why I was so defensive and cautious," you explained.

"What was the other reason?" Aether asked.

You hesitated, "The other reason is... my name. He knew my name." Your eyes narrowed. "It shouldn't be possible for my name to exist in this world."

"Huh... I don't get it. Why shouldn't your name exist?" Paimon asked, puzzled.

Aether thought for a moment, "Are you from another world too?"

"Yes," you confirmed.

Paimon and Aether exchanged knowing looks. "Oh... Well, that makes sense, I guess," Paimon said, rubbing her head. After a moment, she suddenly exclaimed, "Wait a minute!" causing both you and Aether to stop and look at her.

"What is it?" you asked, a bit startled by her outburst.

"Your name," Paimon pointed at you, then gestured to a poster depicting the silhouette of a woman. "Your name is Y/N! And you have the same name as the Unknown Lady from the love story!" Her eyes widened in realization.

Aether looked at you, "Then you are..."

"If you connect the dots, it's very likely that I'm the Unknown Lady from that story," you said, your voice quieting as the weight of the revelation settled in.

"You don't remember anything..." Aether said, his voice tinged with sympathy. Paimon's expression mirrored his concern as she glanced between you and Aether. "Do you have memory loss...?" she asked softly.

You didn't respond immediately, choosing instead to continue walking. As you looked up at the sky, the peach-colored petals from the flowers danced in the breeze, their delicate scent filling the air.

"I rely more on my feelings than memories to guide me," you finally said.

Aether and Paimon remained silent, sharing a moment of quiet empathy for your situation. "Maybe you could talk to Zhongli," Aether suggested gently. "He might be able to tell you more about your past... or the story that involves you."

You considered his words, the idea lingering in your mind. "Talking to Zhongli... It might not be a bad idea," you mused aloud. "It could help me piece together what I've lost."

"Then let's find Zhongli!" Paimon exclaimed, flying up to you and grabbing your hand. "Come on, let's go!" She tugged at your arm enthusiastically, her energy infectious. Aether chuckled at the sight, smiling as he followed along.

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Zhongli's lips curved into a smile as Xiao reports about everything, including You wanting to speak with him. Finally, after decades of meticulous patience, the moment he had yearned for was within his grasp. The thought of claiming you as his own sent a shiver of anticipation through him.

He had waited so long - far too long - to touch you, to inhale your scent, to hear your voice, and to have you beneath his control.

The agonizing jealousy he felt whenever he saw you with Osial was unbearable. The mere idea of such a gentle and exquisite woman in the company of a lunatic like Osial had always filled him with a barely contained fury. He could never fathom how you could tolerate such a union.

The years of planning and scheming were finally about to pay off. Your memory loss, a convenient twist of fate, would make it all the easier to mold the past to his liking, to rewrite history with him as the central figure in your life. He relished the thought of filling in the gaps, of shaping the narrative to satisfy his obsessive desires.

Zhongli's anticipation was almost palpable; he couldn't wait to see you again, to begin the process of weaving himself into the fabric of your life. His heart raced at the thought, his obsession teetering on the edge of madness. You would be his, and this time, nothing and no one would stand in his way.

"Zhongli! Good morning!" Paimon called out, waving eagerly as she led you toward him. Aether trailed close behind, his expression cautious.

As soon as Zhongli's gaze settled on you, his smile widened with an unsettling intensity. "Good morning," he replied, his voice smooth and controlled. He sat at a balcony overlooking Liyue, the perfect vantage point to keep an eye on the bustling city below.

The moment your eyes met his, a shiver of unease ran down your spine. There was something deeply unnerving about the way he looked at you-like a predator finally closing in on its prey. You tried to shake off the feeling, reminding yourself that your goal was simply to learn about the past, nothing more.

"...Good morning..." you murmured, hesitating before adding, "Zhongli." You stood before him, every instinct on high alert, wary of the beautiful yet intimidating man before you. His amber eyes were striking, filled with a quiet intensity that seemed to pierce through you, making it hard to maintain your composure.

Zhongli's gaze never wavered, his eyes drinking in every detail of your presence with an almost obsessive fervor. His smile held a mix of satisfaction and something darker, something possessive. He had waited so long for this moment, and now you were finally here, within reach.

"I came here merely to speak with you... and to apologize for my actions yesterday," you continued, your voice soft but steady. Despite your calm exterior, the weight of Zhongli's gaze felt like a physical force, pressing down on you, as if he was trying to imprint himself onto your very soul. There was a palpable hunger in his eyes, a yearning that was both unsettling and unnervingly intense.

Zhongli's smile softened, but the obsessive gleam in his eyes only grew stronger. "There's no need for apologies," he said, his voice velvety smooth. "I'm just glad you're here." The way he spoke, it was as if he was savoring each word, each moment you stood before him. It was clear that, to him, this was more than just a conversation - this was a long-awaited reunion, a step towards fulfilling his obsessive desires.

He watched you with a predatory stillness, his mind already spinning with plans and possibilities. The thought of you, so close and yet still out of reach, only fueled his obsession. Every gesture, every word, was carefully calculated to draw you in, to ensnare you in the web he had been weaving for so long.

"Why don't you have a seat?" Zhongli suggested, gesturing gracefully toward the empty chair across from him.

Aether and Paimon exchanged a glance, sensing it was best to give you two some privacy. "We'll take our leave then," Aether said with a friendly smile. Paimon nodded enthusiastically, adding, "Have a great time, you two! See you later!" She waved her tiny hands cheerfully before they both departed.

You watched them leave in silence, then took the offered seat. Across from you, Zhongli held a delicate glass teacup, his expression calm yet unsettlingly warm.

His eyes were fixed on you with an intensity that felt almost tangible, a loving smile playing on his lips. The air between you was thick with a palpable tension, a mix of longing and something darker.

As you settled into your seat, a fragrant aroma filled your senses, a delicate blend of floral and fruity sweetness. Your eyes fell on the teapot from which the enticing scent emanated, the soft pink hue of the tea matching the ambiance.

"Everything here smells so fragrant, with a light sweetness..." you murmured, almost to yourself.

Zhongli's chuckle was smooth and rich, like the finest silk. "It's a lovely scent, isn't it?"

He poured the warm liquid into an empty cup, setting it before you. The steam rose in delicate curls, carrying the intoxicating fragrance of peach blossoms.

You picked up the cup with your right hand, your fingers adorned with a silver claw-like metallic guard, and took a sip.

The flavor enveloped you, a perfect blend of ripe peach and subtle floral undertones, sweet yet not overpowering. It was a taste that brought back a flood of memories, a familiar comfort you hadn't realized you missed. The sweetness lingered on your tongue, bringing a rare smile to your usually stoic face.

Zhongli's eyes never left you, watching every nuance of your reaction with an almost obsessive focus.

To him, this was a precious moment, one he had orchestrated with painstaking care. The way you savored the tea, the way your expression softened - he absorbed it all, as if storing these moments deep within himself.

"It's a lovely tea," you said, pulling the heated glass cup away from your lips. Zhongli's gaze remained fixed on his own cup, where the pink liquid swirled gently. "This tea is crafted from a rare and unique variety of peaches," he explained, looking back at you with a smile that seemed almost too perfect. "Legend has it, this was the Unknown Lady's favorite."

"Peaches, hm..." you mused, watching the peach-colored petals dance in the breeze. "They symbolize life's delights and pleasures-"

"-but are equally fragile and short-lived... Such regret is inevitable," Zhongli finished the sentence seamlessly, causing your eyes to widen in surprise. He chuckled softly, savoring the moment. "You once told me this, as you held a peach with such tenderness. I've never forgotten that day," he said, his tone thick with nostalgia.

You met his gaze, a complex expression crossing your face, one that Zhongli seemed intent on deciphering.

You sighed and closed your eyes for a brief moment, collecting your thoughts. "...I am the Unknown Lady, aren't I?"

A dark glint flashed in Zhongli's eyes. "You are correct," he confirmed.

"And you must be the Geo Archon... Morax, who faked his death," you continued, watching as a petal floated gently into your tea. "I had forgotten the Tsaritsa made a contract with you."

Zhongli hummed in acknowledgment. "None of that matters now, as long as you're here, by my side." He reached out and gently took your left hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. "I've missed you, my love," he whispered, squeezing your hand with a tenderness that felt suffocating.

A strange warmth spread from where your hands touched, an unfamiliar sensation that both comforted and unsettled you.

As you glanced down at your intertwined hands, a fleeting image of Osial flickered in your mind. His marine blue eyes held a familiar, tender gaze, lips moving as if whispering words you could no longer hear. You blinked, and the vision dissolved, leaving you staring into Zhongli's intense, unwavering eyes.

Osial.

There he was again, as clear as day. Why now? Why here?

A sense of unease began to creep in, tightening around your chest. Something wasn't adding up. You lifted your gaze to Zhongli, his serene expression betraying nothing. But you knew — deep down, you felt it — this man was hiding something, something crucial.

"What is this festival about?" you asked, your voice steady but probing.

Zhongli's smile softened, his eyes darkening with an unreadable emotion. "It's a celebration of guiding the Unknown Lady back to Morax's arms," he said, lifting your hand and pressing it against his lips. The kiss was gentle, almost reverent, as he lingered on your smooth, delicate skin.

You watched him closely, feeling a faint warmth spread from where his lips touched your hand. It was a sensation that once might have comforted or excited you. But as the seconds ticked by, that warmth quickly faded, replaced by an unsettling numbness. His touch, his kiss — there was nothing there. No spark, no connection, just an empty gesture that left you cold.

You sighed and withdrew your hand from Zhongli's grasp, noticing the flicker of disappointment in his eyes.

"Thank you for answering my question. I'll take my leave now," you said, standing up from your seat.

But before you could take a step, Zhongli rose abruptly, his hand shooting out to grasp your wrist. "Where are you going?" he asked, his voice calm but with an undercurrent of something darker. He stepped closer, cupping your cheeks in his hands, his touch firm and unyielding.

You felt a shiver of discomfort at the intensity of his gaze. "I have a mission to complete. I've already lingered too long," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

The truth was, you were weary of this conversation, eager to finish your task and return to some semblance of normalcy.

Zhongli's grip tightened, and he tilted your chin up, forcing you to look directly into his amber eyes. "What mission?" he demanded, his voice soft yet edged with a possessive undercurrent. "I'll gladly assist you, my love."

You hesitated, weighing your words. "I need to find Osial."

The mention of that name seemed to strike a nerve. Zhongli's eyes widened in shock, then quickly narrowed, darkening with a dangerous glint.

The gentle caress on your chin became an iron grip, rough and unrelenting. A shadow of murderous intent flickered across his face, gone as quickly as it came, but not before you saw it.

The mere mention of Osial's name had clearly disturbed him, revealing a chink in his composed facade. It was as if you had uttered a forbidden word, one that threatened to unravel whatever plan he had so meticulously crafted.

"I don't know if you're aware, but you're hurting me," you said flatly, meeting his intense gaze with a deadpan expression. Your words were a subtle challenge, a reminder that you were not as pliable as he might wish.

"I'm sorry, love. I didn't mean to hurt you," Zhongli murmured, his voice dripping with faux remorse. He released your chin, only to slide his hands down to your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies were pressed together. "Hearing that name... I lost myself for a moment."

"... I see." You trailed off, a strange weariness settling over you. You had felt perfectly fine that morning, but now, a fog of fatigue was creeping in.

Sensing your growing boredom, Zhongli decided to be more direct. "I heard from Aether that you use your feelings to guide you because of your memory loss..." He tightened his grip on your waist, his fingers pressing into your skin in a slow, deliberate rhythm. "Do you feel anything for me, love?"

His touch seemed to seep into your bones, relaxing you despite the unease gnawing at the back of your mind. You leaned unconsciously into his chest, drawn to the security and warmth he exuded. There was something about him that felt... familiar, almost comforting, even though logic told you to be wary. His knowledge of your preferences, his ability to predict your thoughts — it all made your cheeks heat up with a soft pink hue.

"To be honest, when I first saw you, I wanted to kill you..." you confessed, your voice barely a whisper as you looked up at him through your long lashes. "But now... it's different."

Archons, you looked so cute and precious in his arms that Zhongli could barely contain his desire. He had dreamt of this moment for so long, longing to replace Osial in your affections and claim you as his own.

His hand trailed slowly up your back, and he felt you shiver under his touch. His amber-golden eyes fixated on your soft, peach-colored lips. Cradling the back of your head, he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a deep, possessive kiss. They felt like silk, tasting faintly of the sweet peach tea you'd just consumed.

Your legs trembled, your mind becoming foggy and dizzy. You couldn't think straight, couldn't breathe properly. You felt weak, defenseless — a sensation you hated but simultaneously craved. Being in his strong arms felt inexplicably right.

You broke the kiss to catch your breath, a thin string of saliva still connecting your lips. "M-Morax..."

Zhongli's breath was heavy, his eyes dark with desire. "I love you so much," he whispered.

"I love you too..." you replied softly, your voice trembling.

Zhongli hugged you tighter, pressing your head against his chest as he rained kisses on top of your head. His smile twisted into a dark smirk, his eyes gleaming with triumph.

The effects of the special peaches had finally kicked in.

Every flower, every petal swaying in the breeze, every cup of sweet tea you'd consumed, and every breath of the peachy scent had been working as a drug.

A drug designed to make you weak, submissive, and utterly dependent on his touch alone.

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Reblog if you like this story

[cameronspecial]

Begging for more Zach content pookie

What Is Love?

Pairing: Dad!Zach MacLaren x Reader

Warnings: Really bad science

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.7K

Masterlist

Zach stands in front of the hot oven and reaches in to grab the finished pizza from the oven. He has no idea where his children are in the house, but he knows his wife is having dinner out with friends and that his eldest son should be home from his girlfriend’s house soon. Right on cue, the front door opens and in comes Isaac. The teen boy's normal quick pace is replaced with a slow one. This causes the father to turn toward the kitchen entrance with worry. “Are you okay?” The son doesn’t answer right away. There is a lost look in his eyes that tells Zach Isaac is lost in thought. “Are you okay?” he repeats his question. Isaac finally snaps out of his head and looks at his dad with a straight smile. Silence falls over the pair. Zach assumes he isn’t ready to talk about it and goes back to get dinner ready. “How did you know you were in love with mom?” Zach freezes, not expecting that question. It’s a hard question to answer because it is impossible to explain. “I… I guess I just liked her,” he tries to explain. His carbon copy tilts his head, “What does that mean?” Zach strokes his chin in thought of how to make sense. “Let me tell you about when your mom and I first said I love you,” he elucidates. “Well, more like when I told your mom I love her for the first time…” 

———

Her hands were a little cold as she took the nods off of his head. He stared up at her with wonder in his eyes. Her study had been going on for three months now and while he found it to be a useless study, he was thankful for it because it led him to meet her. It is ironic for him to find love during an experiment meant to demonstrate that love is merely a rush of endorphins that fool one into doing crazy things. Her belief in love parallels what she was researching and he accepted this view, much to his disappointment. It was the small things he noticed that made him fall for her. The way she played with her earrings while examining his brain scan. The way she always tried her best to go past small talk. The way her jokes were always so corny, yet her laugh was contagious. “As you know, this is the last test we need for this experiment. I would like to thank you for participating in the study and you will get your payment when you do the exit survey,” she got the protocol out of the way before continuing. “I want you to know that you were my favourite brain to observe.” A blush reddened his cheeks at her flirting.

“I bet you say that to all your participants,” he brushed off, looking down with his palm on his neck. She shook her head, “Nope, you are a great conversationalist and you are the one that proves the hypothesis of her study. You said you weren’t in love and you didn’t have any brain activity.” His smile dropped at her words. He may not be great at science, except he understood what a hypothesis is and what hers is. He didn’t like that he confirmed her disbelief in love. “Ooh,” he huffed out. She looked down at him in concern as she put away the pads that were scanning his brain. “What’s wrong?” she worried. He took a wild chance he didn’t know he was going to take, “I love you.” She reeled back, stepping away from him. “Wh-what? What are you talking about?” she questioned. 

“The time we’ve spent together all these months has made me fall in love with you.”

“You don’t know what you are talking about. That can’t be true. Your brain scans didn’t show any endorphin activity. It’s impossible.”

She is backed up against the desk with her arms crossed. “Maybe your test is stupid then,” he argued and quickly regretted. Anger flushed her. He just called her an academic career stupid and being nice didn’t mean she would let him talk to her that way. She scoffed, “I guess it is a good thing you don’t need to participate in it anymore.” She stormed out of the room, commanding that one of her peers finish taking care of Zach. 

———

“Wow, that did not go well for you, Dad,” Isaac comments, shoving the guac-smeared chip into his mouth. “If you and mom have such opposing views on love, then how did you guys get together.” Zach cringes at the memory. Worry takes over him as he imagines what could’ve happened if it didn’t go the way that it went. “I would say it was when I went on a date with Becky,” he thinks out loud. His son raises his hand, “Hold on, Becky. As in Aunt Becky, Becky?” The older man raises his finger to his lips. “Let me finish my story. So it all started when I went on a date with your Aunt Becky…”

———

It probably wasn’t the best idea to go on a date with the best friend of the woman he loves; however, she asked him and he let out a panicked yes. So now, he was sitting in front of the black-haired woman, tapping his foot like crazy. Her eyes met his over his glasses and she laughed. “I only asked you on this date as a cover. I need to talk to you about Y/N,” she informed. Zach’s eyebrow raised, “What is there to say about her? I love her, but she doesn’t love me or even believe in love.” “That’s because she is scared,” Becky explained, boring her green eyes into his. “Her home life sucked, so it led her to use science to explain away a sensation she never experienced. She may not think she loves you, but I know otherwise and I’m here to help you two idiots.”

“How do you know?”

“Because she gets all flustered when you come up in the conversation and I have been to more soccer games than I have ever been to in my life in this past semester alone.” 

“Really?”

“Yes, so listen. This is what you are going to say.”

———

“So you didn’t actually date Aunt Becky,” the listening boy verifies. The storyteller nods, “I suppose I never did. It could be better explained as a friendly meet-up. Can I finish my story?” The teen stops talking and indicates to continue. “I followed Becky’s advice and tried to confess my adoration to your mother again…”

———

He knocked on the door with uncertainty, holding the tulips up in front of his chest. The front door swung open and the person of his desires stood there shocked. The shock turned to anger. “Are you here to continue the discretization of my academic career?” she grumbled. Her right arm crossed over her left one as she leaned against the door frame. “What is love?” he began the conversation in the manner he was instructed. His face scrunched once he realized he didn’t address her question. He wished he could restart to avoid the embarrassment. He couldn’t. “What?” she puzzled, head tilting at an angle. He pressed on, “You say that love is only a chemical reaction in your brain. I say that it is simply a feeling that you have for a person. It’s just liking someone. Simple as that. No explanation. No physical correlation to your brain. Even though we have different views on love, there is one thing in common between the two. Do you know what that is?” 

Her head moved from side to side and he stepped forward, handing her the bouquet of flowers. “We both have a definition of what love is, but we’ve never experienced it before. So scientifically speaking, how can we know if either of them is true,” he contended. Her hand flew to her earring and she began tugging on it. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to show you why we are meant to be together.”

“Why are we?”

“Because we can use each other to learn what love is and once we determine a definition, we can compare and determine who is correct.”

She chortled, “That’s ridiculous. If we go into an experiment with the expectation of falling in love, then it would be biased and-.” “Um, can we stop with the science analogy? I’m not going to lie, I can’t keep up,” he interrupted. Her eyes rolled in their sockets. “Fine. We can’t be in love because it’s just not possible.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Because it isn’t there?”

“What isn’t there?”

“The science!”

He groaned, “Science doesn’t have all the answers. It’s why people still have to do research, right? So why can’t love be something you can’t explain?” At this point, tears had begun to well in the corner of her eyes. “Because if love isn’t something scientific and it is something that just is, then how come my parents didn’t love me? How come I never got to feel it? If it is something so easy to have, how come I was deprived of it.” A pain shot through his heart at the sight of her distraught. He finally understood her resistance to the idea and stepped forward, dropping the flowers to the flower so he could pull her to his chest. “The universe hasn’t been fair to you. This made you decide that you had to use science to explain why it wasn’t unfair because it made it easier for you to process. Nevertheless, it’s okay to admit that you don’t know something and I’m here to help you learn.” She cried into his shirt. “What if I’m not capable of love?” He could sense the worry she felt and smoothed down the hair on the back of her head. “Then I’ll have enough love and endorphins for the both of us because I know that love can simply be there and doesn’t have to be anything physical.”

———

“In that moment, I knew what love was. It isn’t one thing or another. It is in the eye of the beholder and up to you to figure out what you define it as. If you are questioning whether or not you love Kira, then listen to your heart because it will tell you what it thinks,” Zach guides, getting up to call his other children for dinner. He leaves his eldest child to think over the story he just recounted. He is glad for the question because it gives him a chance to go down memory lane. 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Hey could you do dovey and Lesso, and and y/n as like a punishment that y/n has to do extra credit off paper if you know what I mean, for both Lesso and Dovey at the same time. Because y/n's grades are bad. You cand do whatever you want with this, I really appreciate your work

Oooh yessss! Love love love writing for Dovesso!! Thanks for the request, anon 🥰 Hope you enjoy 🫰🏻♥️

Extra Credit ~Dovesso xFem Student!Reader

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!, smut, age gap(all legal), eating out, threesome, implied future smut, Daddy kink, Mommy kink, praise kink, etc.

Enjoy (;

“Ah, there you are Miss L/N! We’ve been expecting you…!” Professor Dovey exclaimed, as you walked into the library.

All classes had wrapped up by now and the windows in the library showed nothing but a black reflection of the interior of the room.

“Miss L/N, have a seat.” Professor Lesso instructed.

You gulped and drew your attention back to the two stunning deans in front of you.

“This is an informal meeting, nothing to worry about, Dear…” Professor Dovey comforted, trying to lower you apparent anxiety.

Your anxiety wasn’t from that…

The three of you sat down, the two goddesses sitting in parallel, across from you. The two women exchanged glances before Professor Dovey began,

“Sweetheart, we need to talk about your grades…” she sweetly purred.

Your breath hitched and your heart was racing.

“Oh…?” You chocked out.

“Yes, they’re not where we’d like them to be…” Dovey feigned light disappointment, “And Professor Lesso and I have both noticed you being quite distracted in our respective classes…”

At this your face went red and you looked away, avoiding their gazes.

“We have a solution in mind for your little problem…” Professor Lesso husked, standing up and walking to the nearest column to lean against.

You clenched your thighs together at Lesso’s words and her tone. Your heart was pounding in your head.

“Oh…?” You repeated in a stutter, your mind reeling.

“Yes, an extra-credit kind of thing…!” Professor Dovey exclaimed, to which Lesso lightly chuckled.

You looked from one dean to the other.

“We’ve made the girl speechless…” Lesso wickedly chuckled.

With a stride and her cane, Lesso stalked over to you, stopping mere inches in front of your chair and swiftly swiveling around for it to face her. She then grabbed your chin and tilted up to meet her gaze. You froze, doing nothing to stop the woman.

“Do I make you nervous…?” Lesso wickedly purred, staring you down with intent.

Your mouth went dry at the red heads words. You meekly nodded.

“I expect verbal answers…” Lesso growled.

Your eyes widened in her change in tone.

“Yes…” you choked out.

Lesso then suddenly dropped your chin, her gaze making its way back over to her counterpart. Dovey had stood up and walked around the desk to the other side of your chair. She lowered herself to your eye level, cupping your cheek.

“You’ll say if anything makes you uncomfortable…”

“I will…” you whispered, nodding at the same time.

“Good…” Dovey mumbled before closing the gap between your lips and hers.

You gasped and whimpered into Dovey’s precious lips. She kissed you with a light, direct passion. Her lips happily leading the way as you followed. And when she pulled away, a small whine escaped your lips.

“Oh no no, pet…” Lesso wickedly purred, directing your attention over to her, “You take what you’re given and you don’t complain. Understand?”

“Yes…” you whispered, staring from her eyes to her lips in anticipation.

Your expectations were quickly met as Lesso’s lips eagerly ravaged yours. She cleverly bit your lower lip, eliciting a groan from you, and giving her access to slip her tongue inside your wet cavern. Once Lesso had felt she had properly established her dominance, she pulled away, leaving you and your very puffy lips.

“Go make your mommy feel good, pet…” Lesso purred in your ear, nipping at your lobe.

Your breath hitched at the nickname.

“Yes—”

“Yes Daddy…” Lesso was quick to correct you.

“Yes Daddy…!” You breathily moaned out, practically jumping out of your chair and turning around to find Clarissa grabbing your wrist and directing you to the floor in between her legs as she leaned back in one of the lounge chairs.

You eagerly helped Clarissa out of her knickers.

“Use that pretty mouth of yours for Mommy…” Clarissa cooed, guiding your head down to her heat.

You happily obliged, diving into the brunettes soaked folds. Clarissa moaned out in delight, while Lesso watched the whole show with apparent hunger and lust.

The second your tongue had brought Clarissa down from her cumming, Lesso pulled you around into a searing kiss.

“Daddy’s turn…” she wickedly purred into your ear.

Lesso had already discarded her trousers, and as she leaned against a nearby table, you quickly striped those off her tall frame. You were quick to dip your tongue into the red heads hole, eliciting a breathy moan from the wicked dean. Her hand roughly gripped your head, pushing you impossibly further into her cunt.

“That’s it, Baby… Doing so good for Daddy…” Lesso groaned.

Pretty soon, you had Lesso cumming on your tongue as well, leaving you with two sated deans and your own aching heat. Lesso tilted your chin once more to look up at her.

“Be Good. Get your grades up. And Mommy and Daddy might reward you next week…” Lesso wickedly purred.

You bit your lip, nodding.

“Yes Daddy…” you breathlessly whimpered.

“Now get to bed, good girl…” Dovey purred.

“Yes Mommy…” you breathlessly whimpered.

~~~

Part 2 Coming Soon… (;

Lady Leonora Lesso | Clarissa Dovey

[winchesterszvonecek]

you got me flowers?

Will 🥺

Flowers - [ Will Halstead ]

Prompt: “You got me flowers?”

Word Count: 976

Warnings: female!reader, fluff

Masterlist | Will Masterlist

It was like Will could sense when you’d had a bad day at work. That he had some sort of alarm go off in his head anytime you so much as felt a hint of stress or frustration. It’s what you loved about him. How caring he was. How he always went above and beyond to make sure your day ended better than how it had gone.

Maybe it was the doctor in him, you didn't know. All you knew was that you had struck gold in terms of the perfect guy and for as long as you both lived, you would never even think of anybody else but him.

You always looked forward to going home, more so now that you had someone waiting for you. Someone who loved you and would do anything to make sure you never forgot that. Some days Will wasn’t there because he was on shift, but even on those days he made sure to leave you a little something special to come home to. Something he knew would make you smile when he couldn’t himself.

However you knew he’d be home today. Waiting eagerly to make you feel better after your God awful day at work, one you were wanting to put behind you as quickly as possible.

The whole way up to your shared apartment you were twitching with excitement, trying your hardest to think of what it might be this time. What little thing he’d prepared for you or which item he bought that might make you smile and the second you unlocked the front door you simply dumped your bag on the floor and beelined for the living room.

Will was sitting on the couch, his back to you and the moment he sensed your presence he jumped. Literally. He was on his feet faster than you could blink, looking all embarrassed as he’d lost track of time and hadn’t finished preparing his surprise for you.

“You’re early.” He babbled out, scratching at the back of his head as you furrowed your brow a little, slowly making your way towards him.

“No I’m not.” You replied, rolling your lips a little as you couldn’t help but smile over his minor fluster. You folded your arms, taking another step forwards to feel your legs press against the back of the couch as you craned your neck to try and see what he was hiding behind his back. “Whatcha got there?”

“Nothing.” Will said casually, leaning his body parallel to yours to stop you from peeking, making you huff a little and pout dramatically. “It’s not ready yet.”

“Oh come on, just let me see.” You whined childishly, pouting again as you clasped your hands under your chin and batted your eyelashes at him. He never could say no when you gave him your best puppy dog eyes, something you abused greatly, and you could tell he was about to break. “Please?”

Sighing, Will ran his hand through his hair, mumbling a faint ‘fine’ which in turn enticed a quiet ‘yay’ to escape your lips in a way that made him smile, his heartwarming over just how downright adorable you got in these moments. He stepped aside, offering you a full view of the bouquet of flowers he had been trying to put together, most of which were still scattered across the coffee table and hadn’t made it into the vase yet.

“You got me flowers?” You said softly, your heart all but bursting in your chest as you rounded the couch, eyes never once leaving the colourful array covering the table.

“I was trying to make you one of those mixed bouquet things.” Will replied, gesturing to the mess behind him. “But it turns out that flower arranging is a lot harder than it looks.”

“Oh, Will.” You breathed out, feeling the slight warmth begin to form in your eyes as you subtly wiped at them.

You didn’t care if they were only flowers. Didn’t care that he’d bought you them plenty of times before. It was more the fact that he’d been trying to put together his own bouquet for you, that really got to you. He didn’t have to do that. He could have gotten a florist to do it, picked a premade one or even grabbed a small bunch from a stand on his way home from work.

But he hadn’t.

Instead he’d gone to all this trouble to, not only gather up all your favourite flowers in your favourite colours, you might add, but he’d spent what seemed to be hours trying to arrange them for you himself. And if that wasn’t love, then you didn't know what was.

“Baby?” Will stepped forward, taking your hand in his and drawing your teary attention away from the mess of flowers. He pulled you gently towards him, his free hand cupping the side of your face the second you were close enough. “Are you okay?”

“I’m perfect.” You whispered, voice a little shaky as you leaned into his touch. You turned your head a little, placing a soft kiss against the palm of his hand. “You’re perfect.”

“I take it you’re happy with the flowers?” He asked, a quiet chuckle escaping his lips as he brought you into his arms, allowing you to rest your head on his chest and feel the rhythmic beat of his heart beneath it.

“I’m more than happy.” You sighed contently, and honestly the flowers went forgotten the minute he encapsulated you in his warmth, feeling the touch of his lips atop your head as he kissed you.

You may have loved all the little things he did for you, but pretty much all of the time it was simply Will himself that was capable of making your day one hundred times better than you ever could have asked for.

Like this? Apply to my Will tag list here!

tagging: @kiddbegins @neapolitantoebeans @pensfan5871 @zaidatorcuatomorgado @alexxavicry @wandamaxim0f @everything-fandom @stephydearestxo @evanbuckbuckley @rens-daylight

Enjoy my work? Why not consider supporting me on Ko-Fi?☕️

[armpirate]

Soundleasure | Choi San || CH. 38

Pairings: Soft!San x fem!reader || Strangers to lovers, fake dating

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, online sex, ghosting

Warnings: inexperienced!San, fem!reader, masturbation, online sex, camboy, first times.

Summary: You can do whatever you please and be whoever you want on the Internet. And San knew that a little bit too well.

After finally following all the signs the universe was throwing at him, he started living a double life that no one was aware of. Everyone in his daily life knew him as Choi San, the reserved and quiet boy who wouldn't raise his voice, and would barely communicate with anyone outside of his comfort group. But only a few knew him as Soundleasure, the man with a sexy voice and a filthy mind that had their toes curling just with his narrations.

He never thought of the possibility of those two lives ever meeting, he had always tried for them to follow a parallel route and had always played safe to keep his friends from ever suspecting that side even existed. But his plans will start to crumble when he gets a little too close with one of his subscribers and she invades his real-self and altergo's universes without being able to stop it.

Y/n will not only help him to keep his secret from his circle, but will also show him there's more of Soundleasure in him than he'd like to admit. 

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

Aprox. time of reading: 19 minutes

San's sneakers scuffed against the pavement as he walked toward the café Mingi had suggested. He had no idea why Mingi wanted to meet there, but he hadn't questioned it. Maybe Mingi sensed the weight of everything on San's mind, maybe they wanted to meet somewhere that wasn't their place so he'd be able to disconnect. Everything had been a mess since the company party, and San felt like he was drifting, trying to find his footing in a sea of bad decisions.

He arrived at the café, its small brick facade nestled on the corner of a quiet street. The familiar smell of coffee and fresh pastries hit him as he stepped inside. He scanned the room for Mingi, but instead, his eyes landed on Wooyoung, who was sitting at a table near the back, head buried in his phone.

San froze.

The tension between them had been suffocating ever since the truth came out. Wooyoung had barely spoken to him after the party, every time the boys tried to get them to speak, his friend jumped ready to attack. It wasn't just about the camboy thing; it was about trust, about lying, about how San had dragged Y/n into the mess... and how San ever thought he'd be judged by him.

As if sensing eyes on him, Wooyoung looked up. The moment he saw San, his face twisted in confusion, and then his expression hardened.

—Nope. Not doing this —Wooyoung immediately stood up.

He shoved his phone into his pocket and made a move to leave, but San quickly stepped in front of him, blocking the way.

—I didn't know about this either —he explained before Wooyoung could complain—. But can we, at least, take the chance and speak? They said they'd pay for our coffee.

—And a piece of cake —Wooyoung warned, glancing at Yunho—. The most expensive one on the menu —he gave San a pointed glare, crossing his arms defensively—. You speak, I'm doing enough with staying here to listen to you.

San's heart sank. He knew Wooyoung was angry, and he had every right to be. San had kept a huge part of his life hidden from his closest friends, and when the truth came crashing down, it didn't just affect him -it hurt the people he cared about.

Yunho and Mingi left, heading to the counter to order and then sit on a different table to give them the space they needed. San had already explained everything to them, they needed to hear to understand his situation, although they were sure there were things he needed to talk with Wooyoung, since their friendship had always been closer.

His explanation was set from the very beginning. How everything evolved after his father was dumped from the company to the moment Y/n got involved in the lie, and how since then they had zero control over how things kept evolving.

—It was supposed to be something temporal. After my father got fired, I was scared you'd treat me differently, so I just... I know I messed up —he confessed quietly—. I know I should've told you the truth from the beginning. But every time I tried to, the lie kept getting too big.

Wooyoung scoffed, his expression incredulous.

—Scared? Dude, I'm your best friend. What did you think? That I'd judge you?

San rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the weight of Wooyoung's words. It wasn't that simple, though. The shame, the fear of rejection -it had all built up inside him, making it harder to admit the truth.

—No. But I know how you are. I know you'd have tried to get in between and solve things for me, I know you'd have stepped over to pay for my part of the apartment... I know things would've changed if I had told you. And I thought that it was just better to handle it on my own.

Wooyoung's eyes softened for a split second, but his frustration remained.

—You didn't have to do it on your own. That's the point. We're your friends, San. We would've had your back, no matter what.

San felt the sting of Wooyoung's words. He had been so wrapped up in his fear that he forgot the very thing that made their friendship strong -their loyalty to each other.

—I know, and I'm sorry —his voice cracked—. It wasn't my intention to make you or either of the boys think that I didn't trust you. I made a mistake, and it got worse when Y/n got dragged into it.

Wooyoung's jaw tightened at the mention of Y/n. He leaned back slightly, his arms still crossed as he looked at San with a mix of disappointment and concern.

—A bit ironic you got mad at her for doing the exact same thing you did. You're so alike that it scares the shit out of me —his eyes narrowed—. You hurt her, San. I saw what happened at the party, and still she didn't tell me much because she didn't want me to get angry at you —he admitted, voice sounding softer—. And you know Y/n, she's been through so much already. You know it better than anyone else. She doesn't deserve any more pain, she didn't deserve what you said to her and how you left her alone.

San winced. The guilt of what happened between him and Y/N weighed on him every day. He thought about it constantly -how his actions, his lies, had pushed her to a breaking point. The party had been the final straw.

—I know I hurt her —he nodded, licking his lips to let out the ugly truth—. I hate myself for it, every single day. I love her, Woo. More than anything. That's why I know she'll do better if I'm not in the picture.

Wooyoung looked away for a moment, his fingers drumming against his arm as if he was deciding whether to stay or go. Then, with a sigh, he slowly sat back down, motioning for San to do the same.

—I'm not smacking you because we're in public, but you're the biggest idiot I know when it comes to Y/n. She doesn't want you away, she wants you with her —he confessed—, and you want to be with her just as bad. Why do you keep in contact with the officers working on her case?

—How do you know?

—I was angry at you, but that doesn't make me deaf —he replied back—. Now, can you fucking tell me what has made you believe that bullshit?

—She deserves someone at her level. And I haven't been near it since we met each other.

—You're so stubborn with that —he clicked his tongue—. It's not about levels, but about having someone to rely on when you need it the most, to have someone to trust when you have no one to do so. You've always been enough for her, there has never been anything that made her think you didn't deserve her. San, she loves you. For everything that you are.

—I still wouldn't blame her if those feelings changed —his head shook—. I know I was scared and mad when that happened at the party, but it doesn't excuse how I acted towards her. I was overwhelmed. And I know she was, too. But somehow I made it about myself only.

Wooyoung stared at San for a long moment, his eyes searching his friend's face for any sign of insincerity. But San's regret and guilt were real, etched into every line of his expression.

—I didn't tell you if she asks, but I can assure you those feelings haven't changed at all —he confessed—. You need to talk to her. Really talk to her.

—I did... —he hesitated— I told her I wanted to switch companies to work on the internship somewhere else and she refused.

—Oh shit, you for sure are dumber than I thought you were —he caressed his temples—. What did she tell you?

—Told me to keep it professional and stay there because it was a good opportunity —he sighed—. She said she gave up on the project so I wouldn't be uncomfortable, and for that same reason I was going to move to another company, so she wouldn't feel uncomfortable.

—Okay. Now we'll have to work on something certainly —he murmured—. Y/n told me you went to her office and how she was barely able to go on for the rest of the day, but she didn't tell me it was because you're the biggest idiot out there. Shit will get complicated with her.

San nodded, his heart heavy with worry for Y/n. He hadn't seen her since their tense conversation in her office, and he knew that she was pulling away from everyone, shutting herself off from the world.

—You've got a lot of fixing to do, but I guess this could be a good start.

San felt a wave of relief wash over him as he saw the hint of forgiveness in Wooyoung's eyes. They weren't completely back to normal, but this was a start. Wooyoung's lips twitched, almost forming a smile when he saw the way his friend's features relaxed, but he held back.

A few minutes later, they could hear Mingi clapping from far away, as he made his way towards their table.

—So, did you two kiss and make up?

San rolled his eyes, while Wooyoung scoffed but couldn't hide the small smile tugging at his lips.

—We're getting there —Wooyoung answered—. He's too shy to do that in public.

Mingi slid into the seat beside Wooyoung, drumming his fingers on the table.

—Good. Because you two bickering is more awkward than watching San attempt to cook.

San laughed, grateful for Mingi's lightheartedness, while Yunho slipped next to him. It felt like the tension that had been hanging between him and Wooyoung was finally starting to lift.

—Hey, my cooking isn't that bad!

—Yeah, sure. If you like charcoal —Yunho added in a murmur.

The four of them shared a laugh, and for the first time in weeks, San felt a sense of normalcy returning to their friendship. There were still things to work through -conversations to be had-but in that moment, San was just happy to have his friends by his side again. It was a good way to go for a new beginning.

Y/n sat at her desk, the glow of her computer screen reflecting off her glasses as she scrolled through endless emails. The stacks of documents on her desk had grown over the past few days, and while the work was a welcome distraction, it didn't silence the gnawing anxiety in the pit of her stomach. Ever since the party incident, things had spiraled. Her professional life was a battlefield, and her personal life felt like it was hanging by a thread.

Her secretary buzzed through the intercom for the third time that morning, her voice strained with politeness.

—Y/n, I'm sorry, but San is here again. Should I tell him to lea...?

Before Y/n could respond, the door to her office creaked open, and there stood San, his expression determined yet weary. His usual playful demeanor was absent, replaced by something far more serious. Y/n's heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, but she quickly masked her reaction, focusing her gaze back on her computer as if his presence barely registered.

—I told her not to let you in —she let him know coolly, without looking up at him.

San shut the door behind him and stepped closer to her desk, his hands shoved in his pockets as he tried to ease the tension.

—Yeah, well, I noticed. I can see she's pretty determined on following your instructions no matter what.

His attempt at getting a reaction from her didn't land, and Y/n's lips remained in a thin line. She continued typing, her fingers moving methodically over the keys, as if his presence hadn't just shifted the atmosphere of the room. San let out a small sigh, walking closer until he stood just a few feet from her desk.

—Look, I didn't come here to bother you... I wanted to apologize.

After learning from Wooyoung that his visit to her office destroyed her even more, he was given the last thing he needed to face the consequences of his stupid actions. He needed to make amends, to take back some words, to make some things up for their well-being.

Y/n paused for a moment but didn't look up. Instead, she leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest, her expression unreadable.

—I'm not upset, San. There's no need for a grand apology.

Her voice was neutral, detached even, and it stung San more than any heated argument ever could. The Y/n in front of him wasn't the same woman he had held close just a few weeks ago. This version of her felt distant, unreachable.

—But there is —he insisted—. I said things I didn't mean, I did things I shouldn't have. Again, I wasn't what you needed from me and... —his eyes shifted far away for a moment— I get it. I just need you to know that I never meant to hurt you. The last thing I ever wanted was to be another problem for you. That night I should've been there to support you instead of leaving. I fucked it up.

Y/n's eyes flickered to him briefly, then back to her screen. She understood his reaction, she could walk in his shoes and understand how serious it all was for him. It was also serious for her and, as much as she wanted to fight him for it, he was right. She wasn't going to suffer the consequences of that video the same way he would, mainly because soon all judgements would become office murmurs that'd only make her ears beep.

She would've understood any word that came out of him that night, because she could understand how difficult it was to lose it all once he started being respected professionally. But the day he came up at her office with the idea of moving away from her, she realized there was no turning back in their relationship, and she genuinely wondered if that was for the better.

—You weren't a problem, San —she mentioned quietly—. If anything, I should be apologizing for dragging you into this mess with the stalker. You got caught up in something that had nothing to do with you. I didn't think... I didn't realize how much it would affect you too.

Her words were careful, measured, but there was a coldness to them that made San feel like she was holding him at arm's length. She wasn't apologizing because she felt guilty -she was apologizing to create distance, to finalize the boundary she had been trying to set since everything had fallen apart.

—That's not fair. This isn't just about the stalker or the party. It's about us. You're pushing me away, Y/n. I can feel it.

She didn't deny it, her gaze hardening slightly as she straightened in her chair.

—Weren't you the one who pushed yourself away? —she finally attacked, her eyes scanning through him— Maybe that's what we need. Some distance. You said it yourself, it might be for the best if we're not together right now.

San's heart sank, his stomach churning at her words. That wasn't what he wanted. He had said those things in the heat of the moment, when everything felt overwhelming, but he didn't mean them. He wanted to take them back soon after he said them. And now, hearing them echoed back to him, he realized how much he regretted it.

—No. I don't think that's what's best. I didn't mean it when I said that.

Y/n finally met his eyes, her expression carefully guarded.

—Yet you showed up with the idea of switching companies, instead of saying this —she sighed—. San, this isn't easy for either of us. But maybe you're right. Maybe we need space. We've been pretending like we can handle everything, but clearly, we can't. We're too different, we have our own problems, and we need to solve them.

San shook his head, stepping closer to her desk, his frustration mounting.

—I don't believe that. I don't think we need space, Y/n. I think we need to fight for this. For us.

Y/n's expression faltered for a brief moment, a flicker of emotion crossing her face before she blinked it away.

—We deserve to solve all of our issues before we can even think of an "us".

—I don't care about those issues, we can solve them together. I care about you. You think I can't handle this, but I can. I want to. You're not pushing me away, no matter how much you try.

Her lips parted slightly, as if she was about to argue, but the words didn't come. San's gaze softened as he took another step toward her.

—I'm not walking away, Y/n. Not now, not ever. I said a lot of bullshit because I'm a dumbass, I acted in a way you didn't deserve because I thought that'd be better. But I'm regretting every single thing I've said or done since I walked away from you that night. I came up with the papers because I didn't want to make it harder for you, I've already made things hard enough.

Her breath hitched at his words, but she didn't respond. Instead, she closed her eyes briefly, willing herself to remain composed. She couldn't afford to let her emotions take over, not now. There was too much at stake.

—You should go.

San stared at her, his heart aching, but he nodded slowly. He could tell that no matter what he said at that moment, Y/n had made up her mind -or at least, she was trying to convince herself that it was the right decision.

—I'll go... for now. But you won't get rid of me so easily.

He turned toward the door, glancing back at her one last time before stepping out. The silence that followed was deafening, and Y/n could feel the weight of his words hanging in the air long after he had left.

As the door clicked shut, Y/n exhaled shakily, leaning back in her chair. She had done what she thought was right, what she thought would protect them both from further pain. But as she sat there, alone in her office, the coldness of her decision started to seep in.

Was it really for the best? Or was she just too scared to let him in again?

Her phone beeped while she saw him walking away from her office, twisting his lips in frustration until he disappeared from her sight.

Y/n sat frozen at her desk, staring at her phone in disbelief. The text message had come from a different number, the words twisted into a cruel poem that sent shivers down her spine:

Don't go back to him, unless you wish

For the world to know what secrets you keep.

Your illness hides beneath your skin,

But I could let it seep.

And those you care for, they'll be hurt too.

Your unrequited love will punish him,

So choose wisely, Y/n.

Her hands trembled as she re-read the message. The malicious intent behind the words seeped into her like poison. Her illness -something she had fought so hard to keep private -was being used against her. Her eyes flickered towards the window, the glass offering a view of the open office space just outside.

That's when she saw him.

Tom was standing a few feet away, typing on his phone. His face was serious, his fingers moving rapidly over the screen. Y/n's mind raced as she connected the dots.

She stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor as she rose. She had to confront him, to put an end to this. Her heart pounded in her chest, a mix of fear and fury fueling her steps as she marched toward Tom. Just as she reached him, he looked up, surprise flickering in his eyes.

—We need to talk —her voice sounded low, trembling with restrained anger—. Now.

Tom blinked, confusion spreading across his face, but he didn't resist. He followed her silently as she led him to one of the smaller offices down the hall. As soon as they entered the room, Y/n slammed the door shut, her chest heaving with the weight of everything she was holding back.

—Y/n, what's going on? Why are you...

—Don't play dumb with me —she cut him off, her voice sharp—. I saw you. I saw you texting just now. Are you the one sending me those messages?

Tom's brow furrowed, clearly taken aback. He raised his hands in a defensive gesture, stepping back slightly.

—What the hell are you talking about? Messages? I don't... Y/n, I don't know what you're saying.

Y/n felt her frustration bubble over. She took a step toward him, her voice rising as she spoke.

—Don't lie to me, Tom! I've been getting these creepy messages since you came back. And I saw you, just now, typing away like you were plotting something. Why else would you be hanging around my office so much lately? —she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose— If you confess now, I'll let it pass. We can forget about this.

Tom's eyes widened in disbelief, but before he could respond, the door to the office swung open. Her father stepped inside, his expression dark and serious, the tension in the air thickening as his presence filled the room.

—What's going on here?

Y/n turned toward her father, her emotions still raw, but now tinged with a sense of dread. She hadn't expected him to catch wind of this confrontation, but now that he was here, she felt even more encouraged to corner Tom.

—Tom sent me another text —she explained—. I just caught him texting right when I received another text. San came to my office, and... and I received this text threatening him again and warning me he'd tell around about my illness, too.

Her father's gaze moved between them, suspicion evident in his eyes. He crossed his arms, not budging from the doorway. Tom's face paled, his shock unmistakable. He shook his head vehemently, stepping forward to defend himself.

—No, no, you've got it all wrong! Y/n, I would never do that. I didn't even know about your illness until just now! You think I'd stoop that low? After everything we've been through?

Her father's gaze hardened at Tom's words, his protective instincts immediately flaring up. He stepped closer to Tom, his voice low and dangerous.

—You better be telling the truth, Tom. Because if you're involved in this, I'll make sure you regret ever stepping foot near my daughter.

Tom raised his hands again, looking desperate now, his eyes darting between Y/n and her father. Harry looked calmer, but his fury took over his actions when he snatched the phone away from his hands to look through the text he had been sending.

—I swear, I'm not behind this! Look, I've been reaching out because... I wanted to reconnect with Y/n because my father is being a pain in the ass about her taking more responsibility, and I came here so he wouldn't make things difficult. I know I made mistakes, but I wouldn't hurt her like this.

Y/n's head was spinning. Tom's words sounded sincere, and for a moment, doubt flickered through her. Could she have been wrong? But if it wasn't Tom, then who was behind the messages?

Her father turned to her, his expression softening slightly as he addressed her directly.

—Y/n, he's telling the truth —her father sighed, looking at the text that had just been sent to Tim, arguing back on how she was doing a good job in her position—. There are no messages to anyone else, nothing suspicious.

Y/n's mind raced. Her stalker had always been a looming threat in the background, but now, it was starting to feel more personal. More invasive. She thought of the people in her life -her ex, her coworkers, even ex coworkers. But nothing made sense, the only thing she knew was that it certainly was someone working in her office.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Tom's voice, softer now, filled with genuine concern.

—Y/n, I don't know who's doing this, but I'm not your enemy. If there's anything I can do to help, just tell me. I'll try to help as much as possible.

Y/n looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of deceit, but all she saw was honesty. Maybe she had been wrong about Tom. But that didn't solve the problem -it only made the mystery deeper.

She nodded slowly, her shoulders slumping as the weight of the situation pressed down on her.

Her father sighed, clearly relieved that the confrontation hadn't escalated further. But the look in his eyes told her that he wasn't done yet.

—You can leave —Harry told Tom, pointing towards the door with his head.

Through the windows in the big meeting room, he made sure everyone was at a safe distance, before he turned back to his daughter.

—The private investigator still doesn't have anything, but we'll get answers soon —he assured her, pressing her shoulder—. Until then, I need you to keep calm and not overreact over everything. I know it's difficult, but whoever is behind this needs to know you have things under control —his thumb traced invisible lines over her blouse, trying to calm her down—. I'll keep track of the cameras, to look for anything suspicious. Alright?

Y/n nodded again, her mind still racing. Whoever was behind the messages, they knew too much. And they weren't going to stop.

As she left the office with her father, she cast one last glance at Tom. His expression was still troubled, but he didn't follow. For now, the confrontation was over. But the storm was far from brewing.

Taglist: @brown88

[dr-futbol-blog]

Runner, Pt. 8

If McKay's interaction with Ford gave us insight into what's going on with him at the moment, Ronon has a discussion with Teyla that seems to contain some parallels with John Sheppard's life:

Teyla: How long have you been on the run? Dex: Seven years. Teyla: And you have been on your own all that time? Dex: Not much choice. Teyla: Afraid of bringing the wraith down on anyone you were with? Dex: Can't go home. Can't stay in one place for too long.

Let's put aside the question of what "year" even means in the context that one is hopping from planet to planet in different solar systems. Seven years is a pretty curious number given how young Ronon seems to be here. He has been aged by the hard life he has lead, but he still seems to be around Ford's age. But for Sheppard's life, seven years might mean something. It could be seven years since he fell out with his father. It could be seven years since his divorce. It could be seven years since he lost Dex and Mitch, or Captain Holland. The timeline of his life is not entirely clear, but seven years certainly means more in the context of his life. And it's entirely possible he had avoided getting close to anyone for seven years. That it had been for seven years he felt alone before he met McKay.

Where Ronan has been isolated by the wraith hunting him, being unable to stay anywhere too long lest he get the people killed, Sheppard has been self-isolating--but much for the same reason. Sheppard also believes that he gets people killed, that people get killed because he gets attached to him. Sheppard was also unable to return home (either to his father or to his ex-wife), or at least he felt that way. He had spent six months prior to this mission flying helicopters in the most remote part of his world, so he too seems to have been unable to stay anywhere for too long. In this, Sheppard and Ronon are much alike.

So, if they are alike in this, what else does Ronon's story tell us about Sheppard? Ronon shares an incident in his past with Teyla:

Dex: One time I accidentally came across a planet with a village near the ring. Teyla: What happened? Dex: I stayed, one night. Ate a real meal for a change. Left right away the next day. Didn't matter. I later heard: the whole village...

Ronon believes that he invites calamities upon people he happens across. That he has to stay away from people lest he get them killed. And Sheppard believes the same thing. The difference is that Ronon is a victim, where Sheppard believes that he is so toxic, he is so damaged, he is such a bad person, that he deserves this. He believes that people he falls in love with are destroyed as a punishment for his wrongdoing (caring about them in the first place). That he shouldn't be around people because he knows they will pay the price for it, but because he just can't stay away, he just doesn't know how not to love, he keeps getting them killed. And it just makes him feel worse about himself every time he sees this happen, in a vicious circle.

And while Sheppard has tried to keep to himself, to not let anyone close to him, his neediness always drives him to seek human connection sooner or later. I discussed previously how Sheppard probably hasn't had a lot of opportunities for staying the night with anyone, even when he was married. How he was used to doing everything quickly and in a clandestine fashion when it came to sex due to the various institutional settings that he had grown up and spent most of his adult life in. How it probably wasn't easy for McKay to get him to stay for that night, the first time. We don't know what ultimately made him make that choice to stay the night, but it changed everything for him.

This could have something to do with the Chaya episode. The reference to a real meal connects this to the picnic they had on the promontory in Sanctuary (S01E14). Sheppard didn't stay the night with her, this much was clear. And he ran into McKay while he was leaving her quarters, McKay asking him why he was up so late. He's always up late, he told McKay, as though that was something McKay was meant to know about him already. And he declined what he thought was an offer made by McKay to "do some research" with him, like that also was something they were in the habit of doing together. There are hints here that they had already been "hooking up" by this time. Late at night, they had been "playing the game". But Sheppard hadn't ever stayed the night with McKay, had no intention of doing that. He stayed up much later than McKay anyway, it made sense to slip out while the man was asleep, to make sure no one caught on to what they had been doing.

It's also interesting that there was a visual reference to this scene in particular in how Sheppard walked away from Caldwell earlier.

Here, they went their opposite ways. Sheppard went to the direction McKay had come from and McKay continued to where Sheppard had been going to before he had been stopped by him. We know that they did not sleep together on this particular night, as we were told by McKay in the morning that he had been up all night. But I don't know how to read Sheppard's "No, thanks" other than as a response to an offer from McKay. Also, the fact that Sheppard actually had been walking in the direction where McKay was also going before he decided to go the opposite way? Could be his feet were leading him somewhere when he wasn't thinking, and he then made a conscious decision to go the other way following their altercation.

But in the next episode, Before I Sleep (S01E15), they're already looking for new quarters together (and even in maintext, they sleep together in this episode). They're looking for a bigger bed. Something had changed between these two episodes. Sheppard had spent the night with McKay between these two episodes. It's even possible that what ever mind-meld he did with Chaya made him yearn to get closer to the person he was falling for, fast and hard. Had made him open to the idea of letting someone get close to him. He did tell Chaya he needed to be home by midnight, he needed to get back to someone he cared about in order to spend the night with them. But what ever the reason, what ever the circumstances, after he had spent that first night with McKay, he was lost. His whole life had been changed by that choice.

For Ronon, staying the night had lead to the destruction of the village. For Sheppard, staying the night had destroyed every wall he had built inside him. He had let McKay get closer to him than anyone ever before. He had let McKay open him up in every way that he knew how. He had let himself love and be loved. Stupid and dangerous though he knew it to be, he had allowed himself to believe that it just might be okay this time. McKay had stood by him through so much, after all. He had saved his life many times. McKay was an end-of-the-line kind of guy. McKay made him feel safe and protected, like someone was watching his back.

And then, it hadn't meant anything. He had managed to fuck that up too. And worse yet, he had thought he'd gotten McKay killed by not going with him to the satellite platform, and he had felt pain the kind of which he hadn't even known existed. Having felt that, having experienced that, it didn't just go away when it turned out it had been a misunderstanding. He knew what it felt, now. He knew he couldn't go through that again. It would destroy him. And so, in order to make sure that wouldn't happen, that he wouldn't have to feel that kind of pain again, he had made sure McKay would stay alive if it literally killed him.

It wasn't wrong to want someone you care about to live, but it was selfish for him to make the decision without telling him, it was wrong for him to remove McKay's agency in this, he realized it now. Although he probably would do it all over again, it's possible he overreacted. And now, McKay was avoiding him. McKay could barely look at him. McKay came in late for team meetings when he asked him to come. McKay was hiding somewhere beneath cocoa butter and sarcasm, and he couldn't reach him anymore. It had been a mistake to let himself believe that it would be alright. It had been a mistake to let himself stay the night.

Just to underline this parallel between Ronon and Sheppard, the latter contacts them via the radio in the middle of Ronon opening up about his past to Teyla, and actually says the words "This is Sheppard":

Sheppard: Teyla, this is Sheppard, come in? Teyla: Go ahead, Colonel. Sheppard: You OK? Teyla: Yes. We are fine.

Here, Teyla interprets Sheppard as asking whether they are fine when he very likely had meant to ask if she was fine. This just tells us that Sheppard understood the danger he put Teyla in by leaving her with him alone. But at the same time, Teyla is subtly giving him a sitrep. All is fine, for the moment.

Sheppard escorts Beckett to the cave carrying an assault rifle (not a designated marksman rifle, which they probably didn't have on hand), and he's doing his best to convince him that it's going to be okay and that it's safe while really having no way of knowing this is true. He is trying to hurry him along, though, trying to cut through Beckett's usual waffling (Beckett's response to danger is actually the kind that people often think McKay is like).

Sheppard: Alright, for what it's worth, I'd never send you in there if I thought the guy was gonna hurt you. Beckett: Is that opinion based on some sort of evidence, or is it just a gut feeling that this gentleman isn't dangerous? Sheppard: I didn't say he wasn't dangerous. He could probably kill you in the blink of an eye. I don't think he will Beckett: Well thank you, I feel much better now!

The tone in which Sheppard talks to Beckett here is strange. While he's trying to keep his voice down so as not to be overheard, his pitch is high in a way that indicates dishonesty. Like he's lying to Beckett. Sheppard had no intention of letting Beckett get hurt, this much is certain. But it seems like he's pulling his analysis of Ronon's character out of his ass. He's barely even had time to think about who this guy is, he has so many other things on his mind. Ronon could well try to hurt Beckett, he might be completely crazed for all he knows, and Sheppard's plan was to take him out with the riffle if he did turn out to be violent. But at the same time, he needed Beckett to get in there quickly, to get this over with as fast as possible, and he had no time to hold Beckett's hand through it. So, he tells a lie. John Sheppard lies a lot. And he also knows that the best lies have at least some part in them that is true. So he admits to Beckett that the guy is dangerous. But he needs Beckett to get in there regardless.

It's notable here that Beckett makes reference to Sheppard acting on instinct, making decisions based on a feeling, as Caldwell accuses him of the same thing at the end of the episode. And Sheppard tells Beckett he's making a rational call here -- and it is true. First of all, he is taking precautions so this is not based on Sheppard just feeling like Ronon can be trusted to act a certain way or not to pose a threat to Beckett or Teyla. He's taking Ronon literally in his crosshairs because he's not quite sure about him. But even more than that, the fact that Sheppard is here with Beckett and Teyla at all is him going against his feeling.

He has made a conscious decision to override his instinct, which is to find McKay now and make sure he's alright, and has instead delegated this task to his men. His every feeling is telling him he should have done the opposite. But he had to stop and think about how to proceed here. He has done what McKay would have wanted him to do, which is not to act on impulse but actually weigh the pros and the cons of the situation. He's doing what he thinks McKay would have wanted him to do. And so it is ironic that Beckett and Caldwell both accuse him of acting on a feeling.

Sheppard makes a reference to the fable of Androcles and the Lion here, which I'll return to later. It tells us that he has a classical education, which hints at a boarding school background. But what's real interesting is that Beckett poses the question of who Sheppard is in this retelling of the fable. Beckett suggests he stands in for the Romans, but Sheppard doesn't respond, he only smiles at him.

And this episode is a retelling of the fable only it's not Beckett that is Androcles despite Sheppard trying to use the fable to inspire some courage in the timid doctor.

Furthermore, because Beckett is much more the way people often think McKay is, this gives us an opportunity to contrast how Sheppard deals with Beckett as opposed to McKay.

Here, he's really managing Beckett the way one would manage a child, up to and including the use of educational fables. He's using a gentle tone, he sprinkles his words with smiles, he is really trying to make Beckett feel more confident and less scared. He knows Beckett is out of his depth here. Now, McKay trusts Sheppard so much that he does what ever Sheppard tells him to do (even taking the sunscreen with him, just like Sheppard told him to). Sheppard doesn't need to convince him, and he doesn't need to inspire courage in him. Quite the opposite, McKay inspires courage in him a lot of the time. And Sheppard never speaks to McKay like he's a child. There is a mutual respect between them.

Sheppard watches Beckett operating on Ronon through the scope of his rifle. Clearly he could have taken the shot when he sees the man lose his focus on Teyla but he decides not to do it. Ronan passes out naturally from the pain, and Sheppard joins the others down by the cave while the big man is out cold.

And, just as soon as he's satisfied that the situation here is under control, he feels the need to move on to other more urgent, more important things. He has to find McKay and Ford. And make no mistake, it's finding McKay that is the priority for him. They came to this planet to find Ford, but McKay is the one foremost on his mind:

Sheppard: We know at least one wraith tracked Ronon here. I'm gonna go look for McKay and Ford. Teyla: Yes, we will be fine. Beckett: Now that the lion's passed out cold.

He literally tells us. He's going to go look for McKay--and Ford. Not for Ford, and McKay. Not for Ford and McKay. McKay, and Ford besides. He's going to go look for McKay, and he's going to keep an eye out for Ford while he's doing that.

Meanwhile, the sun has apparently set on the planet and McKay is still trying to talk sense into Ford as they wade through the deep dark woods. Ford doesn't seem to be in a chatty mood anymore, having gotten a lot of what was eating him out, but McKay is trying to relieve his own anxiety by keeping the (one-sided) conversation up:

McKay: Look, if you'd just turn on your radio, we could hear what's happening. The others must have called for back-up by now. Maybe Sheppard and Teyla don't even need rescuing any more.

Ford shoves McKay out of the way as he hears a noise in the bushes, and while it's possible he does not know his own strength, it's still unnecessarily forceful. This is symbolic: he means to protect McKay by pushing him out of the way when he detects danger, but ends up hurting him in the process. This is precisely what Sheppard did to him.

And here, Ford really does seem to have McKay's safety in mind, as he even hands his gun back to him. McKay himself is quite baffled by this gesture because he's not used to being held at gunpoint by someone one moment and then having the gun handed back to him the next. Ford even cocks the gun before handing it to McKay, making sure it's ready to use in case he needs it.

And, contrasting him with Beckett again, McKay actually does seem ready for action. He's not frightened, he's preparing for action.

It turns out that it's their own guys and make no mistake, these marines were looking for McKay. These are men that Sheppard had put on finding McKay duty while he felt like he was forced to go watch Beckett play Operation with the cave man. Because Ford seems to think these men are a threat, and because they don't immediately lower their guns when McKay suddenly jumps out of the bushes and probably gives them a fright does not change the fact that the only possible reason these men would even have for traipsing through the woods was to look for McKay.

But alas, Ford takes them out as he feels threatened by them but uses the stunner instead of killing them.

Ford: What the hell are you doing, McKay? McKay: What the hell am I doing? What the hell are you doing?! Those are our guys! Ford: I can't trust them!

It's interesting the it seems to be the lack of trust that is Ford's main issue, and biggest obstacle keeping him from being able to come back home. The enzyme is making him paranoid, to be sure, but at the same time, he doesn't know what to expect from his former team members. He thinks that the enzyme is the best thing that has happened to him, and he is fairly sure they would try to take it away from him. But at the same time, Ford is being held up as a mirror for McKay in this episode and it's interesting that he takes out a pair of marines because he can't trust them because with Sheppard's promotion, McKay's mistrust of the military seems to have ramped up. He has had to hide a part of himself throughout his entire professional career because of their rules and regulations, and he cannot trust them to show any leniency if they ever were to find out who he loves. And worst of all, he's not the one who would end up paying for it, it would be the man that he loves. So, McKay can't trust them either.

But at the same time, these two marines are not responsible for all of that. They are Sheppard's men, and as such, McKay feels the need to protect them. Because Sheppard isn't here to save them, it's up to him to do what Sheppard would do.

McKay: Oh, that's it, I've had it. Just drop your weapons now! Ford: You're gonna shoot me?! McKay: I will if I have to. Ford, I'm taking you in. Look, you may not believe this, but it's for your own good.

For one, McKay once more has really good form here, a professional grip on the gun. He also has pretty good aim: he notices Ford lifting his arm holding the stunner, so he takes a shot at it. He hits the target he means to hit, intending to incapacitate his shooting hand. Now, McKay's voice shakes a little as he tries to talk Ford down, he's going for a commanding tone and not quite getting there, because this is a really intense situation. He's not not afraid. McKay knows better than most people that Ford is a dangerous man even without being hopped up on some alien enzyme that makes him stronger and seemingly a lot crazy.

But like always, he feels the fear and does it anyway. This is what makes him a hero. He tries to do the right thing even when the odds are stacked up against him. But this also tells us that Sheppard has been training him, and he's been learning well. And it's in situations like these that he calls on that internalized version of Sheppard, trying to do what Sheppard would do, trying to be the man he thinks Sheppard would want him to be. And what's more, he's right. Later on, Sheppard makes the exact same call. But here we see that both of them are still carrying the other man inside, using the idea of the other to tell them what to do when they are lost. They are both doing that.

Continued in Pt. 9

[bumpkinspice0]

Parallels Chapter 13: The Hunter

Miguel O'Hara x Spider!FemReader

No use of y/n

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 4148

Summary: Miguel needs your help stopping a Kraven the Hunter anomaly.

Warnings: Angst train (toot toot), references to hunting, Fighting, canonical typical violence (We'll get filthy again next chapter, I promise)

A/N:  I made a bunch of references to the original Predator movie so... sorry if you haven't seen Predator.

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_______________

Chapter 13

The Hunter

Miguel hated the woods. 

Well, maybe hate was the wrong word. He wasn’t used to the woods. Born and raised in a towering metropolis, he knew how to scale a skyscraper better than a tree. City’s were nice. There was order to everything. Direction and design and engineering. The woods were… well the woods.

Everything around him was sprawled out wildly and unpredictably. There was no sense in trying to memorize the map Lyla provided him when all the trees and rocks looked the same at every turn. What he wouldn’t give to have Lyla here now. Her signal barely reached this dimension. She still had limits to her abilities despite Gabe’s efforts to improve her code. Rather than have her glichely hoving at his shoulder, he had to save his watch’s juice for a portal home. He had to go after this villain old school.  

A slippery variant of Kraven the Hunter. 

He’d completely forgotten what the anomaly’s home dimension was at this point— Miguel just knew he didn’t belong here. There was no Spider in this dimension. No super-humans of any kind. A plain 21st-century reality. What would people of this dimension think if they saw a blue-suited man leaping through the forest canopy? Not that he really had to worry about running into anyone. The nearest people were miles away.

This Kraven was smart. He’d hid himself away deep in some protected national forests in the Pacific Northwest. Massive pine trees and towering sequoias covered the mountainous landscape. People didn’t venture this deep into the territory. Miguel wishes he had the time to stop and appreciate just how stunning it all was.  Had he really ever been to the forest? Not one like this. Not since he was a child, he thinks. There weren’t many forests left in 2099.

He needed to get out of Nueva York more. This place wasn’t so bad. Almost like the city but… trees for skyscrapers.

Still, it didn’t make him any less frustrated with it all. 

This Kraven anomaly had been here for over a month, evading Lyla’s already weak sensors in this distant reality. It was pure luck they picked him up at all.

The evidence of him was everywhere. There were some tacks even the seasoned hunter couldn’t hide. Miguel looks up at the pine tree that had been glitched into a mosaic of neon cubes and surreal patterns— one of the many he’d seen. Who knows what other damage this hunter had caused? He needed to get the anomaly out of here quickly before he caused the entire reality to implode. 

Miguel’s enhanced senses were practically useless. Kraven was an expert in the wilderness. He’d disguised his scent and camouflaged his body. Even his footsteps seemed to blend in with the forest’s chatter. This man was a ghost. Miguel had been tracking him for days now and all he’d ever found was more glitched vegetation and mocking laughter in the distance. This Kraven was toying with him. 

Miguel was out of his element— just prey in the hunter’s domain.

His watch alarm goes off. His 48-hour limit was up. Another 2 days wasted on this anomaly. Another 2 days he could do more damage to this reality. He lets out a frustrated grunt and kicks at the glitched tree, its neon appearance shifting wildly from the impact. 

“Where are you?!” Miguel screams into the vast towering forest. No sense in hiding his location now that he had to leave. More deep mocking laughter echoes from the trees, seemingly coming from every direction. Miguel responds to the laughter with a powerful roar, whipping around and slicing through the glitched tree. It falls with a thunderous, pixelated thud. 

This wasn’t just his frustrations getting the better of him. It was a threat. A show of power. 

Kraven’s always hunted the biggest game— The most challenging apex predators. Miguel had to give him a reason to fight him instead of hiding. Kraven’s were prideful fighters. With any luck, he’d want to face Miguel when he came back. He’d want him as a trophy. 

What better trophy than a monster?

The echo of the fallen tree dies down and Miguel is met with complete silence in return. Good. The portal home materializes behind him and he backs into it with a smug grin under his mask. 

You wanna fight me now? He thinks as he’s blasted home. Miguel will be back soon enough— But he won’t be alone.

With his advanced senses obsolete against this opponent, it made things more difficult. Much more difficult. He hated to admit it, but Kraven had him beat in hand-to-hand combat. This man trained since childhood. He fought beasts for fun on the daily— and won. He had advanced strength, senses, and agility— Miguel’s equal, if not superior, in every way.

No, Miguel couldn’t track him down or possibly even beat him once he did have him— but perhaps he could get an upper hand with another sense. He needed help— desperately. He knew it from day one but allowed stubbornness and pride to get in the way. Now look where that got him. Days wasted wandering aimlessly through the forest instead of facing the problem that was actually bothering him.

He hasn’t talked to you for 2 weeks now. You haven’t been back to the tower since you left. Before, you both only ever reached out when you needed relief, for lack of a better term. But now…

It’s changed. The spider-sense is not the same as it once was. It wasn’t demanding sexual gratification as it had been, but it still wanted you. It longed for you, to have you near him. For the two of you to just be together— or maybe it was Miguel himself who wanted that. It was easier to blame it on the spider-sense.  

That and… he would finally have to tell you it can all be over. That you can be cured and never have to see him again. That would be best for everyone, yet the prospect of it still gnawed at his instincts. He’s starting to doubt if he could even follow through with it now.

Did you feel the same?

Regardless, you still had to face each other again. This could be one last hurrah before you both go your separate ways. One more fight with you, side by side. Just one more day with you before he sent it all crashing down. That’s all he wanted.

Selfish bastard. 

______________

“Okay, so have you met me in any other dimensions?”

“Not yet.”

“What about yourself?” 

“Nope. Only spider-woman like me I know… so far.”

“Oh, that sounds creepy the more I think about it,” Jack shivers as he lays out the rug for the latest photoshoot. 

In the wake of being jobless, you’ve found renting out your spacious living room as a photo stage to be a rather good filler. Jack had been complaining about wanting a studio for forever and you were happy to provide.  That and it gave you and Jack more time together. Something you think you both needed.

He took the reveal of the existence of the multiverse rather well— all things considered. He sat in shocked silence, slowly drinking both bottles of wine and only asking the occasional basic question. You’re not sure how long you went on but for once in all your years of knowing him, Jack had nothing to say back. He thanked you for telling him and headed to bed while you slept on his couch that night. 

You remember when you were brought to Spider Society. It was… a lot to process, to say the least. You weren’t yourself for a few days just thinking about it all. For Jack it only took him until the next morning— then the flood of questioning started.

“And the Green Goblin attack, what was that?” he’d asked. 

“Anomaly.”

“That night at the restaurant with Ash and Sue?”

“Regular spider stuff… but a little bit of multiverse drama.”

“Is there a hot dog finger universe?”

And the questioning went on like that until he felt satisfied— Like a toddler learning about the world. It was honestly a little fun to get it all off your chest. Then of course, once he’d accepted all the ins and outs of your work across the multiverse, you finally got to the subject of Miguel. 

You and Jack always loved to talk boys but this was… a much deeper situation. You didn’t want any solutions or advice on how to navigate this shit show— you just wanted to vent. Openly and unapologetically the way only best friends could.   

You knew there was no possible solution here. You knew there was no way it could work, yet the heart wants what the heart wants. So many nights you’ve stopped yourself from calling him or just showing up in his lab. You couldn’t let this go any further— could you?

“Do you love him?” Jack suddenly asked the other week when you were first setting up the living room. The question caught you so off guard that you nearly dropped all of the multi-thousand-dollar equipment you were carrying. 

“Wh– No! I just— I don’t know?!” You quickly set down the tote of exorbitantly priced camera gear. “You can’t just— Why would you ask me that?”

“Because he’s literally all you’ve been talking about for days . So either you want to kill him or in deep,” He said passively as he started setting up the backdrop stands, “Which either is fine, I’m always a fan of a good enemies to lovers. ”

“We are not enemies to lovers.” 

“Fine, disgruntled coworkers to star-crossed fuckbuddies then.” Jack shrugged, “I don’t know what all the made-up rules of this multiverse shit are— and I’m still not convinced any of it matters but— there’s still only one obvious solution— you gotta be grown-ups and talk about it. The relationship and this gross serum thing. It can’t be healthy to just get rid of a part of your biology no one really understands, right? Just fucking talk to him, he can’t be that scary.”

You sighed and collapsed on the couch, “You make it sound so easy.” 

“Because it is that easy, stupid.”

And he was right. But if you talked about it that might mean it’ll be over. He might backtrack like he did before and realize all the mistakes you’ve both been making. He might—

You and Miguel were clearly avoiding each other— again— for over two weeks now. Not a single call and you’d been taken off most missions due to your accident. You could call him too, though. You could walk into the tower whenever you wanted, yet you’d much rather stay here where you had control. 

It felt good to be home. It felt good to be working with your best friend again— totally open and honest. Even if you couldn’t bring yourself to talk to Miguel, this was still helping. You needed this.

And like most pleasant things in your life, it only lasts for a finite amount of time. 

You’re on the ceiling adjusting a spotlight when the tingling you hadn’t felt in weeks overtakes your brain— quickly followed by a knock at the door. 

“I’ll get it! Must be the client. A little early.” Jack announces, scurrying to the front door. You jump down to stop him but he’s already flipped the dead bolt. 

Miguel stands prominently in your doorway, his shoulders nearly wider than the frame, “Who the hell are you,” That familiar growly voice greets Jack as he opens the door.

“Excuse me?” Jack immediately bites back. “You knocked on our door, buddy.”

“Miguel!” You run up, pushing your friend to the side. You don’t miss the shocked expression on Jack’s face as you do so. “What are you doing here?”

“So this is Miguel,” Jack raises his eyebrows, gaze dotting between the two of you. 

“Why does he know me?” Miguel is about to step past the threshold. You immediately place your hands on his chest. 

“He’s my friend. Let’s talk outside.” You turn to Jack, “You, keep setting up. I’ll be back in a minute.”

You practically push Miguel out into the hallway and slam the door behind you.

“What are you setting up?” Miguel asks a little harshly. 

“A photoshoot. He’s a photographer. I’m letting him use my place to do it,” You breathe, pinching the bridge of your nose, “What are you doing here Miguel?”

He’s silent for a moment, eyes darting between yours and the door. “I… Need your help on a mission.”

Admittedly you feel a little disappointed that he was here on business rather than coming here to just see you. But, then again, things always had to be business with Miguel. That’s how he justifies them, anyway.

“Oh?” You cross your arms.

“A Kraven anomaly. He’s been very… difficult to catch,” His gaze drifts to the floor, “And I thought a spider sense and a good teammate might be a great help. If you’re feeling up to it.”

And there it is. The faintest little hint of his feelings behind the decision. After everything he put out there after the accident, he was probably trying to get back into old habits again. You can’t blame him. You were too. He could have gone to anyone else, but he came to you. He’ll always come to you.   

You stand there for a moment before letting out a long sigh. 

“Wait here,” You dash back into your apartment and swing up to your bedroom, avoiding Jack’s eye contact at all costs. You quickly shimmy on your suit and practically stumble down the stairs. Man, you missed the nanotech suit. Jack’s waiting at the base of the stairs, arms crossed and a smile on his face. “Do not look at me like that.”

“I’m not doing anything,” He shrugs with that stupid grin. 

“I gotta go,” You tug at the sleeves of your suit, “Think you can handle everything by yourself?”

“Go, go, we’re all good here,” Jack waves you off, “Remember to text me when you’re… done with him. How come you didn’t tell me he was that big? Is all of him that big?”

You groan and dash back out the door before Jack can make another comment you know Miguel can hear from the hallway.

“Let’s go!” you pull at Miguel’s wrist as you both make your way to the fire escape. You’d rather portal from the roof than make your entire floor go through another random tremor. Luckily you both make it to the roof without getting spotted. 

“So that was your… friend?” Miguel tentatively asks as he crawls over the ledge. 

Fucking men. 

You sigh, “Yes, my high school best friend who’s currently planning to propose to his long-term boyfriend.”

 “Oh.” His gaze drops from yours, “And he… knows about us?”

“Is that okay?” You raise your brow.

“Is he secretly an interdimensional super villain?” Miguel trying to lighten the mood with sarcasm? That was a first.

“You know, not that I’ve noticed,” You joke back. 

“Then it’s fine.” he rolls his shoulders a bit, trying and failing to look more casual, “Gabe and Lyla know, it’s only fair you have someone.”

Fair. The scales must always be balanced with Miguel. It’s just the way he thinks. 

“So,” You lean against the roof ledge, “Tell me about this Kraven.”

_________________

You loved the woods. You always made an effort to take a trip up north every year. A small tradition that carried over from your childhood. Your grandparents had a timeshare upstate where you spent a summer or two. 

This forest was nothing like the modest hills of upstate New York. 

You’d never seen trees like this. You’d never been to the Rocky Mountains. There was a fog that rolled in over the gray morning, the massive pine trees still towered out of the low clouds. You and Miguel sat perched in the tallest tree overlooking the blanketed valley. 

“He hasn’t left this area for days,” Miguel tells you. You’re finding it difficult to pay attention to anything he says when you’re too busy taking in the stunning view. 

“How long have you been after him?” you ask, dismissively. 

“Six days now,” Miguel grunts in frustration, “He’s been here for weeks now. Put himself in his element. Has the whole woods memorized. He has the upper hand in every way.”

“Sounds like you should have called for backup sooner,” You respond cheekily. He grunts again and you smile to yourself. Always so stubborn. You can see his frustrations with this anomaly in his body language alone. He was hunched and glaring over the valley like some brooding, vengeful gargoyle. He’s been hanging out with Ben too much.

 “You didn’t call.” You venture to say. 

“Neither did you,” He turns his head slightly in your direction, “I thought… you’d want a little space.”

“I… guess I did, yeah.” You bite your lip for a moment, “No more space needed though.”

His only response is a small smile in your direction. And just like that, the message was received loud and clear. 

I missed you. 

I missed you too.

You peer down into the foggy pine valley. “So, you wanna try flush him out?”

“No, he has to want to come to us,” Miguel states, “He’s a hunter looking for a trophy kill. That’s us.”

“You didn’t bring me here to just be bait, did you?”

“Of course not,” He sounds absolutely offended at the notion. It’s a little cute, to be honest, “He’ll come to us. He’ll think he has the advantage. He doesn’t know how we fight together— How our sense works. I haven’t been able to catch him myself, but maybe with both of us… We have a shot.”.

“This whole situation is giving me Predator vibes . ” You joke, attempting to lighten the mood before you both have to get serious about this mission. He responds with a confused look. “Do you guys have that on Earth 2099? Ya know, the Schwarzenegger movie?”

“Was that English?”

“Technically it’s Austrian, I think.” You joke again to your oblivious partner. Maybe not the best call referencing a movie that was over 100 years old in his reality, if it existed at all. “It’s… It’s an 80’s movie– The 1980’s. I’ll show you sometime.”

“Are you suggesting a movie date?” he smirks.

“Maybe I am, O’Hara,” You pull your mask over your face, “First one to catch this guy makes the popcorn.”

He turns away with a grin, his mask materializing over his face, “You have a deal, Arañita.”

____________________

You wished he’d warned you how fucking cold it would be. Fifteen minutes into your swing through the lower valley you were already shivering. The nanotech suits had a heating and cooling system so he probably wasn’t even aware of the temperature being negative witches titty. You’ll have to ask him to make you a new one soon.

You were both making a show of your swinging, not bothering to be stealthy or quiet in the slightest. You wanted him to come to you after all, though something tells you the hunter has already spotted you. 

The spider-sense hadn’t rung any alarm bells yet. You were both on high alert just waiting for him to make a move.

Miguel was right, this guy was good. Your advanced sense of smell could have tracked him down miles away by now. You would have heard his footsteps, his breathing— and there was nothing. Absolutely nothing. It was unsettling in a way. Like you were looking for a ghost. 

Kravens usually stood out like a sore thumb. It was surprisingly easy to track down the smell of animal pelts and witch doctor herbs in the cityscape of New York— But you weren’t in New York. You were in his woods. This Kraven was already more dangerous than any you’d faced.

You didn’t like it. 

The spider-sense pings a quiet alert. You both jump to a stop on neighboring trees and an arrow flies between you. You both turn to see your hunter proudly standing with bow and arrow in hand on a redwood branch, several yards away. 

His typical animal hide attire was covered in mud and random vegetation. On his shoulders, he adorned the hide of a grizzly bear that you swear looked freshly killed. He places his bow across his back and pulls out a massive knife from his boot. 

“Well, well! Look what I’ve found!” He shouts across the canopy, his voice dripping with the usual thick Russian accent, “Two spiders when I only thought I’d catch one. Moy schastlivyy den'. ”

Miguel is the first to pounce, and you follow quickly on his tail. Kraven doesn’t move as you swing towards him, a shit-eating grin across his mud-caked face. The spider-sense pings again but you seem to sense it just a second before Miguel does. 

In one fluid motion, Kraven slices at something at his feet and grabs a vine just above him. He’s hoisted into the air as a massive log drops down in counterweight. It comes down directly on top of Miguel. He plummets to the forest floor under the giant thing and Kraven disappears into the canopy.

You quickly turn to go after Miguel. He manages to scramble out from the massive log and catches himself on the closest tree. 

“Don’t worry about me!” He shouts from nearly 100 feet below you, “Go after him, I’ll catch up!” 

You nod and redirect your momentum, looping around a branch and flinging yourself further into the canopy. Kraven had disappeared into the thicker branches but he couldn’t have gone far. You spot his movement instantly, bounding from tree to tree. You can’t get a clean shot with your webs— you have no choice but to pursue. 

He slowly descends the forest levels as you chase after him. You’re gaining on him when you feel the sense again. Before you can even determine what for, you’re being flung in the opposite direction. A noose holds tightly around your ankle as it pulls you along. Idiot, he led you directly into another trap. You now dangle several feet above the ground by one leg. 

Homemade traps, a muscular man painted in mud fighting beings from another world—You were right, this whole mission had big Predator vibes.

The hunter jumps to the ground in front of you with a throaty chuck, “Poor little spider, caught in my web now.”

You scream and shoot webs directly at him. He dodges easily but manages to grab the strands. Before you can disconnect them he pulls your wrists behind your back and spins you several times, effectively wrapping you in your own webbing. Well, this was embarrassing.

“Or caught in your own webs,” He spins you again playfully. “Just as good.”

So much for a spider-sense. Miguel was right, this guy had the upper hand in every way.

You’re about to kick him with your free leg when Miguel tackles him to the ground. The two massive men wrestle on the ground and you quickly squirm to try to free yourself. You have no doubt Miguel could overpower him but you had no idea what else this Kraven had up his sleeve. He had traps laid out. He had a strategy. The quicker you got out and helped detain him the better. 

“You’ve been holding back on me, comrade,” Kraven grunts as he attempts to subdue Miguel, “I know a beast when I see one. A killer.”

Miguel claws into his shoulder and manages to pin the hunter to the ground. Miguel’s mask phases away, revealing a set of pearly white fangs.

“Shut. Up.” Miguel lurches down to sink his fangs into his enemy’s neck. Kraven manages to stop him. His forearm across Miguel’s throat and the venomous fangs less than an inch from his neck. Slowly, he pushes Miguel back— He’s overpowering him. You didn’t think that was possible.

“There’s more in you, my friend. Drink of the potion that made me,” Kraven grunts, “It will set your true self free. Then we can have a fair fight. A glorious fight!” 

Green gas explodes from a capsule on Kraven’s belt, engulfing them both in a thick plum. You see the hunter leap from the mist and scale the closest tree. You work fast to try free yourself from the webs, only a few strands snapping in your efforts. 

The sickening gas dissipates but Miguel does not rise from it. He sits hunched over and heaving, his clawed hands digging into the earth. Every muscle in his body is tensed and quivering

“M-Mig?” You call to him, your voice shakier than you’d like. 

He turns to you, fangs still bared in an animalistic snarl. Crimson red overtakes the whites of his eyes.

Your Miguel… is gone.

____________

Moy schastlivyy den' or Мой счастливый день: My Lucky day.

____________

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[sashaisready]

The Blood Pact: Chapter 5 - Mayday

Bucky Barnes Vampire AU x Female Reader

Reeling from a bad break-up, you're desperately trying to find a new place to live but the Brooklyn rental market is a complete nightmare. You take a chance on an intriguing newspaper ad and enquire about a room in a shared house, where you'd be living with two mysterious men. The catch is that they want something other than your money for you to pay the rent...the one thing they don't have.

Basically all the dudes in reader's life, bar Steve (who is an angel baby), are dicks in this chapter. Warnings for drinking, swearing, some not very nice treatment of reader by some characters. Some hints at cheating and potential emotional abuse from a previous relationship.

Series Masterlist

Chapter 6

Over the next few weeks you and Bucky spent as little time together as possible.

It was easy in the daytime of course. Evenings were trickier, but you made it work - he’d avoid the kitchen while you cooked and then you’d go to bed early, or watch TV in the living room away from him and Steve. You started going out in the week more, even if it was just hanging at your friends’ places for a couple of hours.

You were polite enough to each other that Steve wasn’t suspicious - he just assumed you two didn’t really get along, and tolerated each other for the sake of civility and a peaceful house.

And he wasn’t wrong, really.

Bucky’s words had struck you deeper than you initially realised. You didn’t want to marry the guy, but him writing you off as ‘nothing special’ and only kissing you because essentially you were, well, just there. Low hanging fruit. It had brought up a lot of unresolved feelings about your ex, Peter. Towards the end of your relationship he would make you feel bad about yourself by dismissing you, or trying to shrink you in some way. He’d keep you in line by keeping your self-esteem low, and you only found the strength to leave after he cheated and you finally had enough. You had long suspected that wasn’t the first time he had strayed, either.

How Bucky made you feel that night in your bedroom teleported you right back to your shared bedroom with Peter, where he’d tell you similar things if you dared question his bad behaviour. It was a much smaller thing of course, but you felt the parallels. It hurt, because deep down you knew you still had feelings for Bucky. But you swallowed those as best you could. 

Feeds were a bit more awkward. Bucky sometimes went down to feeding every three days rather than two, which you felt was extreme just to avoid you - but then, you didn’t particularly enjoy them now. 

He switched to feeding from the wrist, not going near his once beloved thigh anymore. Like Steve he’d whip through them as quickly as possible, not touching you anymore than was strictly necessary. No more drawn out teasing or fake outs about where he’d bite. He’d barely talk to you unless he needed to, barely even look at you, just doing the bare minimum to get through it.

You still felt the haze, or ‘the cloud’ as Bucky had called it. But it was somehow muted, smaller. You wondered if personal feelings somehow affected it because oddly enough you actually felt more euphoria with Steve now. You’d gotten to know him much better and the haze reflected that higher level of comfort. You were becoming good friends. The feeling was still nowhere near what it had been like with Bucky in the beginning, but it was at least more pleasurable. With Bucky now the whole thing had an air of anxiety throughout, weighing you down and making you wish it would be over as fast as possible. You could scarcely believe that you used to enjoy it the way you did, it felt like a century ago now. 

Bucky also insisted that his feeds all happened downstairs. He said it was better to do it in a communal area, although you wondered if it was actually because he didn’t trust himself alone on a bed with you. But maybe that was wishful thinking. You went along with it anyway. It didn’t matter anymore. And at least this way Steve would never expect anything had happened between you because you were only ever together out in the open.

Still, you couldn’t complain. You loved the room and the house. You really loved the bathroom. The whole thing with Bucky was a shame, but overall the arrangement you had was working pretty well. And you couldn’t believe the money you’d already saved not paying rent or utilities. Maybe one day you’d actually be able to buy your own small apartment in Brooklyn. Your pipe dream was suddenly looking a little more doable.  

🩸

It was a Friday night and you’d officially been given the evening ‘off’ by Steve so you could go out with Wanda and some friends. No feeds, just you getting wasted with some of your favourite people. Not that you were a particularly big drinker, but frankly you needed it after a stressful few weeks.

You got dressed up, tossing on a nicely fitted green dress you loved and made an effort with your hair and makeup. You checked yourself out admiringly in the mirror as you sprayed your perfume. Not bad.

You wandered downstairs, popping your head into the living room to say goodbye to Steve. Bucky too, you guessed. But only if he was there - you wouldn’t seek him out separately.

“I’m on my way out - have a good night!” You sang as you waved at them. They were both sitting on the couch, their heads snapping to you as you briefly appeared in the doorway.

“Wait up…let’s get a good look at ya” Steve teased.

You rolled your eyes as you walked into the room properly, giving a mock twirl. 

“Ta da” you deadpanned.

Steve grinned. “Looking good sweetie. She looks nice, right Buck?”

Your eyes travelled to Bucky. But he didn’t say anything, he just glared back at you. There was that intense stare again. His face was unreadable as he looked you up and down. 

“Yeah. Nice” he said finally, with all the gusto of an old dishrag. Clearly, he was lying. 

But you weren’t going to let him drag you down. 

“Not sure about the perfume though” added Steve. “Covers up your natural blood scent. That’s far nicer than any fancy spray. And free too” he grinned. 

You pulled a face of disgust. “Ew, Steve” you laughed. 

You said your goodbyes, noticing Bucky’s gaze glued to you as you walked out of the room. You were relieved to be finally free of it when you left the house. 

🩸

A few hours had passed and you were dancing with Wanda at the bar, countless mojitos and some questionable dance moves later. 

“So, what’s going on with the sexy landlords?” She shouted in your ear over the music. 

You rolled your eyes. “Nothing!! Still sexy. Still landlords. But that’s it! It’s all very professional and business like” you yelled back. 

It wasn’t really a lie. Not now, anyway.

She scoffed. “Boring!”

You laughed together as Vis joined you on the dance floor, making you both laugh even harder as he unleashed his moves. What Vis lacked in technical dancing ability he certainly made up for with enthusiasm. Wanda sighed, throwing her arms around his neck as she nuzzled into him. 

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” She laughed. 

He nodded earnestly. “If it makes you smile, then I’ll be as ridiculous as you desire”.

Wanda grinned right back and leaned in for a kiss. 

You smiled at your friends, so happy that they had found each other in the chaos of the world and come into each other’s lives. You felt a tiny twinge of jealousy that you didn’t have anyone like that in your own

A vigorous tap on the shoulder from Nat shook you from your self-pity. 

“Ow! Jesus Nat, you trying to knock my arm off?” You spat.

“I’m sorry. I just needed to tell you first before you saw. Mayday…” she told you forlornly.

You flinched. You two only used mayday for the really bad shit.

“Fuck. What is it?” You asked hesitantly.

She nodded, gesturing behind you.

You turned, already having a good idea of what you might find. 

There he was, standing at the bar and ordering a drink. Your ex, in the flesh, Peter Quill. And there was his new girlfriend, Sharon, the one you’d caught him with in the bathroom at that party. She was all over him like a rash, of course she was.

You sighed heavily. Just what you needed. 

“You wanna get outta here?” Nat asked. “I can round everyone up and we can regroup somewhere else. It’ll just take a second”.

Good old Nat, ever the strategist and loyal friend. 

“No, it’s okay. I was going to bump into him sooner or later. Might as well be now when I’ve got my favourite people with me” you sighed.

“That’s the spirit” said Nat, cheersing her drink with yours. “And you look hot as fuck in that dress. Hotter than both of them combined, actually”. She winked.

“Oh….Shut up” you laughed, your cheeks heating at her compliment. You never did take them well.

“And don’t forget my offer from the start of this whole thing still stands…” Nat continued stonily. “If you want me to kick their asses, either of them, maybe both of them - I will do that for you in a heartbeat. Or I can pour shots down your throat, whichever you prefer”.

You grinned, grateful once again for the good friends in your life. “Thank-you…As always, I’ll let you know if that’s necessary”.

“Well hi there, stranger” you heard him say behind you. 

You sighed internally, spinning on your heel to face him. You felt a bit lightheaded from the booze.

“Hey…Quill” you replied through slightly gritted teeth. 

“And hey Sharon” you nodded stoically. 

She shot back a strained smile, her already firm grip on Peter’s arm seemingly tightening. 

He looked good. A little bit of stubble. His favourite jacket. A hint of a curl in his hair. Sharon looked good too, her long blonde locks falling in perfect ringlets down onto her shoulders. You always marvelled at how her hair managed to stay so neat. Even when you’d accidentally witnessed your boyfriend bending her over the sink in that bathroom, she didn’t have a single hair out of place. 

“How are you?” Peter asked, his eyes trailing over your figure.

“She’s great actually” Wanda piped up from behind you, wrapping a protective arm around your shoulders. “Work is going well. She moved into a gorgeous house with two hot dudes. And most importantly, she’s no longer dragged down by your sorry ass”.

“Wanda…” you hissed, doing your best to suppress a smirk. 

Peter just held his hands up. “Sorry I asked…” he said defensively as Sharon began to drag him away. “Maybe I’ll see you around”.

You nodded half-heartedly as Wanda and Nat dragged you in the opposite direction.

“Wanda…” you mock scolded.

“What?” She shrugged. “I went pretty easy on him…”

You laughed, planting a grateful kiss on her cheek before turning to Nat.

“So…what was that you were saying about shots earlier?” You asked.

She just nodded devilishly. 

“Ladies…follow me” she grinned.

🩸

A couple of hours later and you were regretting the shots. And the cocktails. And those vigorous dance moves.

The others wanted to go onto a club but you’d had enough. It was a great night, but midnight was your limit and you were fantasising about collapsing into your big comfy bed. You were done.

You’d shrugged off their boos and heckling and convinced them to finally let you go as you waited out front for a cab, on the very strict condition that you texted once you were home safe. You were willing to meet their demands. 

You waved them off as you opened your Uber app, realising you were swaying a little. You’d definitely gone too hard tonight - the combination of being led astray by Nat and Wanda, the shock of seeing Peter and Sharon out and general malaise about the Bucky situation was a recipe for disaster. You’d pay for it in the morning. 

You slurred out a curse as the app told you there were no available cars and you tried to flag down a couple of taxis but both were already with passengers. You sighed, refreshing the app every few seconds and groaning with frustration.

“Cab trouble?” Someone said. 

You turned to find Peter standing behind you, curiously watching your phone. Your stomach dropped at the sight of him, he wasn’t exactly the person you wanted to see right now. Although you were surprised to see him Sharon-less.

“Yeah…” you groaned. “Nothing available”.

Peter chewed his lip contemplatively. “How far is your new place from here?”

“Uh…maybe 20-30 minutes’ walk?” You replied shrugging. “Give or take”.

“Well can you not walk it?” He asked sarcastically, as if you were stupid for not coming up with such a simple plan. “You always were a little on the lazy side..” he chuckled.

There he goes again…You certainly hadn’t missed that.

“Mmm yeah, I hadn’t thought of that! Or maybe it’s not a great idea for a woman to walk home through this neighbourhood by herself at this time of night” you shot back, not bothering to mask your annoyance.

He laughed. “Jeez, okay, relax…”

“I am relaxed” you spat as you opened the app again. “You’re un-relaxing me with your stupid ideas. I didn’t ask for your help”.

Peter exhaled. “Okay. Look. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it” he said almost seriously. “Why don’t I walk you home?”

You shot him a disdainful look. 

“C’mon. You know me, you trust me. You can’t find a cab. So just let me help you”.

You narrowed your eyes. “We’ll actually I don’t trust you…”

“Okay. That’s fair. But you trust me enough to get you home safely right?”

You sighed. He was right. He was a cheating asshole, but he wasn’t a threat. Another way that women drew the short straw in life - having to walk home with jerkoff exes because it was too dangerous to go by yourself. 

“Okay…fine” you relented. 

He smiled triumphantly. “Lead the way…”

[riewritten]

CHAPTER 6. COUNTERATTACK

EDGE OF THE PRECIPICE — DIRECTORY

ERWIN X FEM!READER, ERWIN X YOU, NO Y/N | hurt/comfort, angst, mystery, childhood friends, fake marriage, modern au, parallel universe, reincarnation, mentions of canon, pining commander erwin smith, trauma, manipulation, referenced child abuse, violence, psychological torture

SUMMARY: Aggressive land grabbing from the royal government ensue from one countryside to the other, all allegedly for the prophecy: a tree, vast source of power that'd bring great abundance and prosperity to mankind, is standing among their lands. As the said prophecy holds the answer to the tragic childhood you have no memories of, the guerilla's commander pulls out something he prepared for years to help. AO3 | FANFICTION

WORDS: 6k | Want to get tagged for the succeeding chapters? Sign up here.

Levi, Isabel, you, and Erwin stayed inside the conference room after everyone in the HQ called it a night. An old vintage television is open and its news flash report further echoed the already grim mood. 

“Breaking news: Stohess citizens, abducted by rebels to avenge their comrade’s death.”

“What?!” Isabel grimaced.

“Reportedly thirteen soldiers were dead on arrival while five were injured. Citizen casualties remain unknown as they were seized before back-ups had arrived. The rebel being avenged, Petra Ral, was a university student branded as the ‘brainwashed Eldian.’ Ms. Ral was said to be killed after trying to shoot a Military Police officer,” the newscaster continued.

“So this is their game?” Isabel taunted at the air. “Bet they’d make these five soldiers who weren’t even there fool the media with sob stories of how merciless we were.”

Petra did not deserve such disdain at her name, but this time you remain composed instead of making a scene yet again. It’s not like you could do anything about it, not when the next person interviewed on the news was your former boss—the same man who berated Petra at the cafe, the same man who made you realize how desperate you were for normalcy to the point of letting a precious friend’s reputation undeservingly stepped on over and over. Your then-boss sputtered a lot of nonsense on live TV to make his exposure longer. He spoke of how barbaric Petra was, of how he regretted hiring a girl like her, and even went far as to mention your name—that you were one of the poor fellows fooled by Petra’s “so-called” kindness because, before you went AWOL, he caught you staring daggers at him which sent shivers down his spine. He even added in his final statement, “It wouldn’t surprise me if she joined the rebels, too. Petra was smart enough to brainwash students who seemed like a complete airhead like her workmate.”

The one who broke the grim atmosphere (or perhaps made it even worse) was Erwin. He chuckled, sardonically so, as if it was nothing but a noontime gag show and your then-boss was none but a stand comedian.

Levi had the face saying ‘the fuck are you laughing on’ but didn’t waste energy to tell him out loud because, after all, out of all people inside the room, Erwin would be the one to react most unkindly once your name was said in a bad light. It’s always been that way for you, even back in Mitras, so annoyingly protective even after you berate him for taking on fights that were yours to take in the first place.

Perhaps Isabel deemed the laugh utterly displeasing and felt compelled to turn off the TV and change the topic—you were her chosen target, “I actually don’t know what name to call you anymore. Would you rather go by your original name, A—”

“That is not my original name,” you grimaced but quickly regained composure because, if anything, Isabel meant no harm, “I’m sorry. I just—I don’t like the name. Please call me as it is.”

“I prefer your current name now, too! Erwin said you were the one who came up with it as a child. How did that happen, though?”

“Erwin’s aunt allowed me to do so after she adopted me. Now that I think of it,” you then turn to Erwin to ask, “You were the one who suggested to give me a new name. Did you do that to hide me from the royal family?”

“If I were Erwin, I would’ve done the same if not more. The last thing I’d want for you is to be used as collateral for a prophecy that can’t even be proven unless you die,” Isabel tapped Erwin’s shoulders. “Smart move, Er—ouch! Levi, be more gentle!”

Levi carefully tied Isabel’s hair up to tend the wounds on her back, after which he called your name to say, “The royal family and its cohorts are squeezing their brains out to find you. Not even your face as a child could be retrieved. It was as if someone intentionally ensured that your traces would be erased.”

“When I was young, everyone in the village made a precaution to not take pictures of me. I thought it’s because camera flashes could be a trigger as they could potentially be associated with explosions, but the reason is much clearer now.”

“Seems like Erwin’s family was hands-on with you.”

“Erwin himself, even,” Levi mused, “he’s been watching you all this time. Erwin and I had known each other even before you went to university. He was the one who urged me to let you in. The ‘room for rent’ poster at the university bulletin board was intended only for you to see—just so you’d think you found us all by yourself.”

Your eyes widened.

“That’s a bit creepy,” Isabel shuddered.

“Oh, it seems like you’re not fond of saying your acts of love out loud, yeah?” Levi quipped nonchalantly at the man in question. Erwin, although stoic, seemed to ask Levi what he was trying to do right now. But even before he got to, you glared at him and asked, “Is that true?” 

“It is.”

“And you didn’t tell me anything, Levi?” the next glare was for him.

“That’s my next question to Erwin,” Levi lowered his voice, darkly so. “As I said, I’m not here to mess around with whatever prophecy the royal family is brewing behind our backs. If you still don’t give us the context regarding her identity, I’m taking Isabel home with me.”

“Hey, Levi,” Isabel grimaced.

If Erwin was threatened with that, he showed no signs of it. Instead he looked at you. His gaze was silent but asking. It didn’t take you long to construe what it was: Would you like to be the one to answer? It concerns your past, after all.

“Did you really save her from those fires?”

And thus, you tried answering in his stead, “Yes. As far as my memories are concerned, he saved me, but…”

“But what?”

Try to recall it. Try to recall it.

Years ago, you saw the giant tree and witnessed Erwin crying for the first and last time, after which he started avoiding you. He started locking the door of his room so you wouldn’t enter. You thought of ways to apologize, including searching around their house for an apology gift, leading you to a newspaper clip in his father’s room. You saw the headline news of your house being burnt to shreds. Then you remembered. You remembered what really happened in that house.

What happened? You already remembered what really happened! Why couldn’t you recall it?

You just woke up blaming Erwin all of a sudden. It came to a point that Carly brought you far away from him to ease your panic attacks. She got you checked by a psychiatrist. The professional said that your brain might be formulating memories that didn’t happen.

Then…? What happened next again…? How did your relationship with Erwin get fixed again?

Erwin eventually forced himself to your new home. He lived with you and made attempts to clear the misunderstanding. He recalled the truth to you, repeatedly so, and you finally succumbed to him when he saved you from the fires in the vacant lot—a fire instigated by random kids.

That’s what had happened, right?

Then why… Why do you have a dream about Erwin instigating that fire himself to convince you, albeit forcefully, that he saved you?

What exactly have you seen that day?

“Hey,” Isabel patted your shoulder to cut your thoughts off. “You okay?”

“I am not sure,” you muttered, “I’m not sure what I’ve seen that day,” you clasped both hands on your head, wide-eyed, utterly confused. “It’s as if my brain is making up something. It’s as if it’s intentionally painting Erwin in a bad light. The voices are speaking inside my head, full of warning, even if Erwin’s the last one to hurt me out of all the people in this world.”

REALLY? IS THAT REALLY THE CASE, LITTLE FLOWER?

“People who went through horrible situations could really have foggy recollection, you know? Your brain has a reason to be like that to protect you. Don’t beat yourself up for it. Don’t force yourself to remember.” Isabel seemed really worried this time. 

REALLY? REALLY? REALLY?

Isabel’s glare tightened at Levi. Erwin’s gaze was looking on you, then to Levi not long after, “Is that what would make you stay? Forcing her past out of her—making her remember the things she had forgotten to protect her sanity—would that really help you unveil the truth of how bastard of a father Kenny was to Furlan?”

‘Don’t speak as though Furlan’s death is not connected to her identity in the first place!’ is what Levi almost said; you could see the look of disdain on his face. But his face softened as soon as he glanced at you. You wouldn’t like to hear that from him. Erwin was right. Your past is not the primary reason he and Isabel joined the guerillas. It’s to uncover Furlan’s death. 

Levi sighed, exasperated, then gave you a bottle of water. “Isabel is right. Don’t force yourself too much.”

The days went by with Levi and Erwin seemingly in a rift between each other, yet they were still able to work efficiently for the next mission.

It came to Erwin that the Military Police distributed a huge intelligence fund to find Anna. This eventually resulted in rising worries of citizens, especially women, as they felt like someone was watching them. Some condemned the Military Police for it, but some defended it and said it was all for the prosperity of Eldia and that the royal family surely knew what they were doing.

You managed to build relations with the establishments where most Military Police hang out, which led you to befriend Marie, the owner of the bar nearest to the Interior Police headquarters, and she hired you immediately when you said you’ve been trying to find a job.

“Bloody hell, I feel like every woman I’ve been fuckin’ lately could potentially be Anna,” the MP soldier hiccuped as you poured him another drink, “and that I can’t let night pass without questionin’ ’em. It’s that or my promotion at risk, y’know?”

“It must be unfortunate to be a soldier,” you lamented. “Maybe I must be grateful I settled on a job like this.”

“I also am grateful, ya see,” he giggled and scooted closer, breath reeked of beer—disgustingly so, “’cause I get to have a beauty like ya pourin’ my glass after a long, long day.”

Fortunately, Marie swatted him away from you, “That’s my girl you’re touching there.”

“Oh, why so stingy! She’s the first woman ya hired since this damn business got movin’! Lemme have my share as yer best customer!”

“I sell liquor, not women—as if it’s even ethical to sell women,” Marie rolled her eyes and, as swift as ever, collected the used glasses at the counter. “Why don’t you find that wanted girl first so you’d have your long-awaited promotion? Flirting around won’t get you there.”

“Easy for ya to say because yer husband’s already a high-rankin’ dog!” he spat. “These damn women, suckin’ higher officers’ dick off—hic—but scold low-rankin’ soldiers tailin’ ’em.” This time, he sounded like sulking to himself, although Marie could still hear it.

Poor Marie. This bar was swamped by drunkard soldiers when their reputation changed from valor to perversion due to the intelligence mission, and yet this drunk man in front of you trying to mimic Kenny’s way of talking didn’t make the nuisance lighter.

“It’s already a woman’s burden to be tailed by the likes of you and yet you still have the guts to blame us.”

“‘Ya sayin’ something?!” the man shot daggers to the now enraged Marie, “Know yer place and just keep suckin’ yer husband off after his long long day of workin’ his ass off! Just for yer damned bar!” then he spitted on the counter. “Ya thought just ’cause ya got chance doin’ business, yer already superior to us, huh? I bet ya husband’s just lettin’ you ’cause of how good you are in bed! Know yer place and—”

The whole place is rattled into silence when Marie slaps the soldier, clearly offended, eyes shaking in anger. You thought how hard it must’ve been to her all this time, to have such barbaric customers in and out of her lawn. Perhaps that’s even the main reason why she wasn’t fond of hiring women until you asked her for help.

It was even more pitiful when a group of drunk soldiers came to rescue the man. They spat curses to the both of you, of how this whole operation of finding an unknown girl has been stressing their guts, of how they would still do it anyway because they’re men who merely wanted the prosperity of Eldia—the prosperity of the women who so despised them.

Just before Marie could request security, one soldier suddenly exclaimed, “Ah! You must be that person! Hah, we found her. We found Anna!”

It was as though a bucket of ice was thrown at you. But then, their inebriated selves were looking at Marie. They claimed Marie as the wanted girl just because she defended herself against blatant disrespect. No one seems to be functioning properly because of the liquor, hence none of them would cut the commotion off. “You see, one thing we know about Anna is that she’s a child born out of the Interior Police’s operation. Some soldier fucked a woman of a powerful lineage, a lineage so powerful that it could give the holy tree!”

“What are you trying to say?!” Marie shouted back, fuming.

“So the product of that operation must be affiliated to the military, one way or another! Right, right?! Don’t you think so?! We’re all stuck in this because someone in our ranks is a snitch! That’s it! We solved it!”

His remark seemed to turn on the lightbulbs of every soldier inside the bar. Their eyes start becoming more predatory—perhaps even more desperate, because their superiors are onto nothing but “Find her, find her, find her!” recently that every woman they come across salivates their desire to get this over with.

While you’re secretly communicating with the guerilla unit near the area so they’d arrive before the commotion starts, what he said bothered you to no end. No, it didn’t just bother you—it made you remember something, and it’s the first time you have remembered something you’re sure is accurate. 

“Once she turns ten, she’ll be the royal family’s property. Don’t you get attached to her,” he says.

“No way you’d tell that to a mother like me,” she quips, voice laced with honey. “Worry not, she is aware of it herself. Aren’t you, my cute little girl?” then pinches your cheeks.

“Yes, I do! Once I turn ten, I will bless the royal family with prospre—prospreri—prospreritri—”

“It’s prosperity,” your father spats. He seems about to scold you but ends up shaking his head instead. “Nevermind. Not like it’d make a difference if you were born smart.”

“Give her some slack,” your mother quips then fondly looks at you, “don’t mind him. Daddy’s jealous because you’re special.”

“I am?”

“Yes, you know why?”

“Why?”

“Because our bloodline is special! We’re saviors capable of finding the tree and awakening its bearer! Awaking the bearer means giving prosperity to Eldia!”

“Yay! Prosprerity!”

Your mother’s laugh gets even louder, and although your father still looks annoyed, you can see him holding back a smile.

“Miss Marie, pray tell, pray tell,” a soldier hummed, “where do the rebels stay?”

“You son of a—” Marie cut herself off and shot you a glance instead. “Go get someone to fix this.”

You nodded and tried to walk away, but another soldier cornered you, “Why do you think we could let you go when you’re working alongside this woman?” then his face turned sour, “You’re a damn rebel too, aren’t you? Look at how young you are, as old as that orange bitch!”

You very much knew who he was talking about, so your rage did something unhelpful to the situation: you slapped him hard, tears in the corner of your eyes. It enraged the soldier just the same, and so he ordered, “Cuff the two of them!” You tried to defend yourselves, but twenty inebriated soldiers were still soldiers; even if you managed to knock down five of them, someone would be swift enough to point a knife at Marie’s neck. That was your cue to stop fighting. The soldier smiled sardonically, “I see you’re a good girl.”

You let yourself be cuffed, nothing ringing in your mind but vital information you gathered while staying here.

The previous week, a customer working as a clerk inside the Interior Police said that Commander Kenny’s son was a needed sacrifice for the prosperity of mankind. He mourns for him, but it must not be mistaken for Petra who died at the same age. Petra was a life wasted. Had the rebels heeded the warning to give Anna over, no one would have been killed. You asked her then, “So it was a massacre, wasn’t it?” She shrugged and answered, “Is it really relevant if we’re talking about the rebels? The government had always wanted to get rid of them. Who would budge if it really was a massacre?”

Then, two days ago, a young soldier who had just been promoted to be a part of the Interior Police valiantly said, “Someone as powerful as Anna must be kept by the authorities, but look where she is instead, in the hands of the rebels! The royal family means no harm. They need her power for their citizens’ prosperity. It must not be held by the Eldians who could abuse it!” And so you asked him, “Do you know what Anna’s power really is?” Instead, he glared at you, “Are you not attending the church every Sunday?” When you shook your head, he sighed, deeming you lower than him. The young soldier told you everything Isabel and Levi knew about the prophecy and the tree. After thirty minutes of him rambling, you finally cut him off out of annoyance. “Do you know what exactly Anna’s part is?” You then realize that the young boy doesn’t know at all. He doesn’t know a thing, yet he still holds their words dear because they’re his fellow believers, and believing them means being loyal to the royal family.

When you and Marie were all tied and surrounded by drunk soldiers pretending as though they were inside an interrogation room, you asked,” Why do you think rebels exist, Officer?”

“Because they’re incompetent and aching for war, ruining peace for their own gain. Why? Finally admitting you’re one of them? Oh, we gon’ reward you real good, then.”

“The royal government and its cohorts are the ones ruining peace for their own gain. The rebels just retaliated to defend themselves.”

Another soldier pushed him away in a glare, “Yeah? So what is your relation to them?”

“They saved me.”

“Oh, poor girl. She must’ve been brainwashed, too,” the other one sitting on the counter, about to faint, murmured while hugging his bottle. 

“Do you know where Anna is? How about the Commander? What does he look like?”

You didn’t speak. That’s something they could never squeeze out of you. The drunk soldier, much to your and Marie’s surprise, hit your head hard with the bottle. You tried your very best to gulp down your scream, tried your very best to not let the pain know because Erwin trained you for it. You felt the blood drip to your cheeks and chin until droplets of it came down to your shirt. Marie’s screams made you dizzy.

In a span of a moment, you get the urge to sleep, but something uncanny makes you alert—the longer the blood permeates the room, the darker it gets. You thought you were merely feeling things because of the head injury, but you were sure everyone else had felt it, too. The soldier who hit you looked so utterly horrified not long after. He seemed sober again. The soldier who was about to sleep just stood up to scream. The glass bottles on the shelves started clanking against each other as the tables began shaking. The barely cleaned roof showered everyone with its long-standing dust just as if they were alive and as scared as you all were. It wasn’t long for Marie to faint, too.

Out of nowhere, everyone started kneeling at you, shouting their apologies, acting as though they just angered an otherworldly entity. You looked down at them, aghast, as the concussion in your head and the blood you were losing didn’t help you comprehend the situation at hand. 

The pin of the grenade was the rats under the floor, running and running as if an onslaught was happening inside their homes. The wind reeked of corpses, of anger, of suffocating entity taking control of every molecule in the space.

“T-the voice… it’s the same feeling when the voices speak…” you murmur to yourself. You did so repeatedly as the soldiers wept harder until the door banged open. 

“Why are they kneeling and crying?” Moblit exclaimed in horror.

“No! Why are they kneeling and crying while she is tied and bleeding? Oh god, Nifa! First aid kit, please!” Hange ordered.

“Oh, y-you’re here… Thank heavens.”

However, your relief was quickly replaced with horror upon seeing Erwin’s face. It’s always been like this. Back when you two were younger, your playmates have always been so scared to play pranks at you because the first time they did, young Erwin—as you quote them—had ‘made them see hell.’ Your head dripping with blood upon his arrival would obviously warrant a situation way worse than this. You might be safe now, but nobody else is—not with this sight.

“Who’s the one responsible for this?”

You refused to answer. Perhaps out of impulse, or perhaps because you finally realized how scared you are at Erwin all this time. The voices in your head may be the deeply rooted fear for Erwin the same way your former Mitras friends had feared him.

Erwin called your name and repeated the question.

“Don’t worry too much about this. More importantly, Marie, my—”

He walked towards you. The nearer his footsteps get, the more dreadful the atmosphere becomes. “Who did that to you?” 

Everyone went silent. The weeping became quiet strains. You were just about to repeat your remark—that there are more things to worry about—but then Erwin’s gaze turned to the soldier kneeling right before you.

The same officer who hit your head with the bottle.

“Commander, the place is starting to shake,” Nifa reported as she brought him the first aid kit.

“Is there an earthquake?”

“God, it reeks of corpses,” Hange pinched their nose.

“W-what?” Nanaba muttered in horror from the outside. “The rats are all over the road.”

“What the fuck is happening?”

“Fourth squad, check if the bar owner has incurred wounds. Treat her if need be. Miche, seize the soldiers. Do it quickly. Something strange is happening. Let’s leave this place all at once.” 

“How about her…?” Hange pointed at you only for their question to be answered immediately as soon as Erwin untied you himself and applied pressure on your concussion.

With all the strength you have left inside you, you try to bargain, “D-don’t hurt the soldiers,” but his face didn’t change; hence, you repeated, “Don’t you dare hurt the soldiers, Erwin.”

Despite the whole place shaking, more stray animals panicking, and people weeping in fear, his scowl was only due to your pleas. “I loathe this attitude the most. If you ought to be too merciful of your enemies, even to the point of not holding them accountable, you might as well sit still and never join any operation again.”

“They must pay for this. We both know they must… b-but—hah,” you stammered, clearly struggling not to let the dizziness take over your consciousness. “they have information regarding Anna. I heard most of it already so—”

“So they must talk about it before bullets strike their heads.”

“No,” you stopped him from addressing your wounds to look straight in the eye, “It’s not the guerilla’s move to get swayed by their emotions, yes? You—hah—you’re the one who told me.”

If he weren’t too livid, he’d be chuckling sardonically. You almost saw him do so. “I’m not fond of repeating myself.”

He’s primarily here to ruin anyone who dared to go after you—you didn’t forget that, but it irks you. Amidst your consciousness on the precipice of leaving, anger kept you awake. How helpless have you been all this time that he naturally thought this was something to be done? And why is he depriving you of dealing with your issues now that you can do so? 

“I must be the one to do that. Don’t take it away from me.”

There, you saw a glimpse of amusement in his features.

How sweet of you, really — he might’ve thought — how pathetically kind to try and save them by taking the punishment job in his stead. It’s not like you’re entirely wrong—you have all the right to subject all the needed punishment to those who laid their hands on you. It’s just that you lack something he’s been so full of all his life: resentment. He’s not just doing this for you. It’s to satiate his anger for those who dared, and while he trusts you with all of his life, he just knew you wouldn’t be able to do it the way he wants to.

“Are you worried that they’d feel pain?”

“No. Don’t try to change this—”

“Don’t you worry, silly flower. Corpses can’t feel more pain.”

“Erwin,” you warned.

“Sleep.”

“I’d seriously leave you if you do this.”

You almost saw his features falter. Before you fainted, you heard him mutter, “I’d like to see how that goes.”

The next thing you knew, you were on the infirmary bed inside the Underground, and news of what happened at Marie’s bar terrified every single citizen of Eldia, rebels alike. Believers of the prophecy increased just as the fear of the conquest horseman did. That was also the needed confirmation for Levi and Isabel because the captured soldiers spoke in a language they only heard from you before killing themselves. 

“You told me you wouldn’t kill them!” you stormed to the conference room where Erwin and the squad leaders were meeting.

“I didn’t,” Erwin said. “Go back to your room and rest. You’re still not in your best shape.”

“You killed them, didn’t you?! I told you I’ll deal with them myself!”

“He didn’t kill them. We were there. We did interrogate them, but before they could say anything, they sputtered shit and killed themselves,” Levi snapped.

After a sigh, Erwin asked, “Would you like to sit, then? That’s what we’re talking about right now.” His offer made you look at everyone who’s just as lost. Your face flushed with embarrassment. You didn’t even get to fix your hair before storming inside. You sad down beside Levi, and Erwin finally continued. “Not only did they babble in a language we’re yet to understand, they also had the same carvings written on their bodies.”

“The same carvings written on Furlan’s corpse,” Levi begrudgingly admitted.

“So, the prophecy really might be true…” Miche pondered. “Then does that mean their land grabbing in pursuit of Eldia’s prosperity could be justified?”

“Would taking lands out of their tillers be justifiable with some dark magic in our lands? How about how the royal family’s cohorts privately named the seized lands theirs? Would the power of the tree explain that?” Levi scowled.

“There are only things we confirmed in this fiasco. First, the prophecy must be investigated further, and second, the conquest horseman born out of that tree—whoever they might be—does not side with the royal family. We must also find them to know their motives, and…” Erwin looked at Levi, “…to avenge Furlan Church, the first casualty they had brought to our ranks.”

Seems like Levi and Erwin were able to fix their rift while you were unconscious but it doesn’t change the fact that the horseman slipped away from your hands—the very being that haunted you since god knows when, and it was there on that day. You also realized it as soon as the atmosphere got uncanny and the soldiers knelt before you—oh. Oh god.

“Okay, so now, before we dig deeper, does anybody know what the prophecy entails in the first place?” Hange asked. “Sorry, I’m not a churchgoer, so…”

It was Levi who answered, “The church said that the Eldian race was once called ‘Subjects of Ymir,’ and we contain a power brought by a giant tree. The people blessed upon it, however, used the power in vain and committed atrocities all over the world, and so the whole Eldian race perished. The Church believes multiple worlds stipulate the universe, and this one we have is just one of them. The Eldian race was supposed to cease existence as their divine punishment, but a bloodline who also got power from that tree saved us from it.” 

“And perhaps we can deduce that your bloodline is related to it, no?" Miche faced you. "Your counterintelligence report at Marie’s bar confirmed that a soldier admitted your upbringing was an operation led by the royal family where one of their men copulated with a woman of the same lineage.”

“And, as far as her recollection is concerned, said parents have mentioned giving her up to the royal family once she turns ten,” Moblit added.

“And! It just so happened that the fires happened on your tenth birthday!” Hange beamed. “Oh, you powerful girl.”

“It would seem as though I did it all by myself, no?” you chuckle blankly. “Burning people into crisps, inducing fear and suicide, carving on their corpses, among many other cruel things no sane human could do…”

“No, sorry,” Hange backed off, expression softening. “That’s not what I meant at all.”

Awkward silence permeated the room until Erwin cleared his throat, “To continue where Levi left off, the royal family wants the tree back in their grasp. One report we got from Petra's team before they were killed was that the previous king, Uri Reiss, on his deathbed, dreamt of the person who had saved the Eldian race through the power of the tree. His last words were, ‘Find her and her lineage, give them gratitude, for they used the tree’s power beyond their own gains.’ The royal family then deduced that by finding this lineage, they could use the tree once again. That’s the end of their report. Nothing has been found about the operation once it took place.”

The rest of the meeting was about recalibrating tasks inside the unit, considering that the prophecy was real. As soon as they finished, you followed Erwin to his room. You ensured no one would be lurking around outside, for you were about to say something that could scare them.

“The conquest devil is living inside me. I’m sure of it. That’s why they’re finding me.”

Erwin was silent, tormentingly so, and thus you repeat louder. “The conquest devil is living inside me. Everyone must know that the threat is within their ranks. You, of all people, must know what should be done at this point.”

“You see,” Erwin called your name, “while I wouldn’t deny that, I doubt it. You were not around the area when Furlan got killed, and Marie told us everything you had said. None of them could be used against you. Meaning, you didn’t say anything unusual of your character.”

“So all I have to do is prove that it’s inside me, right? Okay, then. Worry not, Commander.” Exasperated, you opened the door to dismiss yourself, only for Erwin to stop you. “Let go, Erwin.”

“They know what the voices inside you have been saying. Levi and I made a report out of it.”

You faced him wide-eyed, yet he looked at you gently, “A-and? What did they say?”

“It didn’t raise their doubts. In fact, they were filled with sympathy.” Your grasp at the knob loosened and Erwin got the chance to close the door again. He let you register the statement for a few minutes.

“They didn’t doubt me,” you repeated. “Not a single doubt at all?”

He held your shoulders against the door and gently asked, “Wanna know why?” You really are clueless as to why. Those alone are objective facts. How could they—

“Because they know you. And you’re dear to them just as they’re dear to you. When Marie explained how you defended the guerillas without fear, Nifa even started to cry. Isabel and Levi weren’t surprised, though.” His remark silenced you, your thoughts, and your horrifying claims about yourself. It was so apparent on your face that Erwin knew he won the argument yet again.

“I still wouldn’t remove the possibility that the conquest horseman lives inside me, but… yes, I understand.”

“Yup. Do as you please.”

That’s when you start getting embarrassed at the distance. Erwin is still pressing your shoulders against the door with a smile so sweet it makes you think how privileged you must’ve been to be one of his chosen people to receive a smile like that from him, knowing well not anyone could have it even if they hardly wished so.

“In the other world, what was my name? Is it Anna?”

“Strange enough, it’s not. Why do you ask?”

“Then, is my name in the other world the same as the one I go by right now?”

Erwin nodded, and so you beamed as it confirmed that your very being was not tied to poor child Anna's fate. “I like the name Carly had given me better. Glad to know I got that name in the other worlds.” You smiled at Carly’s memory. You regret not visiting her before this catastrophe happened.

“Indeed, the name you go by now fits you more, but Carly didn’t give it to you. You were the one who came up with it when she asked.”

That reminder plucked a thorn out of your heart. It made you smile wide and sweet, the very smile Erwin likes to see. “So, you told me you saw what that tree could offer. Tell me about it.”

Erwin smiled ruefully, “I told you. It’s how beautiful you look in worlds even beyond this one.”

“Seriously, I’m not kidding around.”

“Do I look like I’m kidding around?”

You rolled your eyes, hoping it could conceal the fluster instead, “Then, who am I aside from my beauty that goes beyond different worlds?” Hell, saying it out loud sounds so embarrassing. 

However, Erwin’s smile faltered, “After you used the power granted by the tree to save the Eldian race, your existence was subjected to death and despair. In every other world, you always end up dying miserably. Even now I see that you’re still being chased by it.”

“I’m the one who—” you covered your mouth in surprise, “I’m the exact person who did all that?”

“Yes, perhaps the royal family knows by now that you’re the person they’ve been finding for so long; that’s why their search for you got even more unrelenting.”

“God, how cruel. Why am I dying repeatedly after doing that much, then?!”

“Breaking divine laws, I suppose?”

“If that isn’t a beauty that goes beyond worlds, huh!” you huffed. Erwin, however, is still smiling as if he meant praise literally. It flustered you further. Is this due to your stress? Are you perhaps seeking comfort?

“Who were you in those worlds?” 

“I’m not sure. The worlds I’ve seen are just glimpses. The only thing clear is that you were the only one in your bloodline who used the power granted to your lineage and willingly carried the consequences tied to it.”

That’s sad to know, yet deep inside you, you’d still choose that path if that meant Erwin and all of your loved ones would not cease to exist.

“What are we in those worlds, then? Did we also know each other in childhood?"

“Uh… It's a bit more complicated than that.”

“Okay, what are we to each other based on the glimpses you’ve seen?”

He seemed to hesitate at one point, but perhaps saying it out loud made his smile return, “My lovely wife, that’s who you are back there.”

🔖@cadenza-damour @xiaotopia (hi u two it's been a YEAR [god i cant stress this ENOUGH] since ive updated this fic and i would totally understand if you'd want to get excluded from the tag list from hereon!! please gimme a heads up if this is the case, :) ty!!)

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[stellarf0x]

Sharkboy & Lavagirl details only I care about! Part 2/?

Max’s Parents Parallels

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The parallels between SB & LB with Max’s parents are amazing. Let’s start with Sharkboy first.

I’d also like to mention that both SB & LB must’ve been directly made by Max for the purpose of showing how he views his parents and coping with his own internal conflict.

Sharkboy

This character is the first introduced to us with a tragic backstory, one where a father figure is sweep away in a sudden storm. I think this highlights what Max feels towards his dad too. The fighting has driven Max away from both parents, but he seemed especially close to his dad. So Max is trying cope and understand his feelings with this backstory Sharkboy was given.

Max must feel like his dad was too suddenly taken from him, with SB’s dad being literally swept away in a freak storm.

So which parent is supposed to be represented by SB? Max’s mom of course.

Take SB’s strict nature over Max, much more like a older brother figure would. Yet also ready to fight anyone who threatens him.

Max’s mom is much more of the realist in the relationship, denouncing dreams, because she had trouble following her true dreams. Even quickly telling Max to look to a more secure path in life and not have his heads in the clouds like his dad.

She’s takes her experience as a sign and pushes that onto her husband and son to protect them. Even if they don’t see it as such.

SB takes on her quirks, liking saying that Max shouldn’t have sugar because it gives you nightmares, directly taking a line his mom said earlier in the movie. (He also has a good singing voice, which could link to Max’s mom having one?)

Besides that SB generally takes the logical/cynical part of the duo and is harder on Max.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lavagirl

She’s the heart of the pair, clearly taking Max’s side; being patient and encouraging.

Her personality is directly connected to Max’s dad, specifically his presence before the fighting between parents. Someone who listens to Max, encourages his interests and spends quality time with him.

Her introduction itself wasn’t anything I felt meant anything, she just kinda popped into existence.

She’s also a vessel of Max’s own internal struggle of figuring out who he is. We see her voice her own uncertainty in where she came from, what she’s meant to do. (This could also refer to Max’s dads own struggles)

I feel a bit bad but Lavagirl didn’t have too much to work with. It was all internal and she wasn’t necessarily working towards figuring out who she was until the end. If I missed something please let me know. (I’d like to give her a better role in my fanfic)

EDIT!!!

I thought about it some more and both LG and SB are vessels for Max’s character growth anyways, so LG’s sorta plot line growth being vague makes a bit more sense? It’s not as well executed personally I think but it’s somewhat of an explanation on why she herself didn’t feel like she went through much reflection. These characters just merge with each other it’s hard to keep track of if everyone actually gets decent development alone. If that makes sense.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now to my favorite part.

In the final act of the movie, Max’s parents are swept up in the freak tornado, both putting aside any feelings about their relationship to save Max.

As it’s a life or death situation they have a final conversation about their divorce. Max’s dad admitting that he never truly wanted to leave his wife. Both saying their final “I love you’s” in what they think is the end.

It’s corny as hell but who comes out of the tornado with who in the tornado? Mom paired with LB, and Dad paired with SB.

They saved each other.

That’s all I have to say for these two, I’m not sure what else I have left to analyze in this movie now that I think about it. I might do some random thoughts or moments I forgot about.

[tavyliasin]

Disability Pride Essays - Wyll and Sudden Disability

Next up on my list for disability parallels is the ever wonderful Wyll Ravengard. Whilst the obvious thing here might be to look at his eye and the link to vision loss, there’s a lot more that can be said about the main path of his story being a strong allegory for an accident or incident causing permanent and visible disability. 

So the content warnings here are going to be around traumatic injury and incidents, as well as sudden onset disability and the ways in which we cope with these drastic changes both physically and psychologically. There will also be a little talk around ableism and family attitudes to disability, and how for some of us disability is something that integrates into our identity.

What is Wyll’s Disability?

Wyll is interesting, when we first meet him he has already lost his eye to Mizora’s first incident, but this is something he has already integrated and accepted. It isn’t bothering him particularly, and he has learned to compensate enough to fight and continue to proudly wear his title as Blade of the Frontiers. Although there’s still pain and trauma to how he has been denied his home, this aspect he has been able to fully integrate into himself and it isn’t something that he openly struggles with in the game. And then we have the choice, which is most often made, to spare Karlach. The result of that is Mizora’s most spiteful action, in changing Wyll physically and irrevocably. Not only is the process visibly agonising, as we witness him changing on the screen, but there’s clearly a leftover impact to that too. There’s a lot of reconciliation needed between the heroic image he had so painstakingly built up as the Blade of the Frontiers, to now looking much more like the very fiends he has fought against for all this time. There’s also the consideration that having huge horns growing suddenly from a head that has never had that weight would likely cause chronic pain issues whilst the muscles adapt to the changed balance.

How Do We See The Disability In The Game?

In the game with Wyll we see a lot more of it in his initial reactions and conversations shortly after. He has to come to terms with the sudden and drastic alteration to his physical body, from the horns to the scars and even ridges he mentions. Beyond that, we see more of how people react to him and what he expects from himself rather than the physical aspects that we quickly become used to. The clearest part of this are when he meets his father again. Ulder expresses a lot of unfavourable reactions towards Wyll at first, and reinforces exactly the things that Wyll has been struggling with accepting - he doesn’t fit in any more, he’s not like his peers, he can’t simply continue with the path that was set out for him when he was born. Beyond this, though, there is a chance for reconciliation. To let Wyll advocate for himself, for what he wants, and to prove that physical appearance or social status are not what makes him who he is and they never have been.

How Does This Reflect Real Life?

There are a few things in here - the biggest is a disability caused by an accident or a sudden onset illness. That can involve a similar complete shift from what someone planned for themselves, for their life, and what is actually possible now. Another one to consider is also society’s reaction to visible differences, and historically there is a lot that fictional media has to answer for in equating certain physical traits to moral failings - take a moment to think about how many villains have been visibly scarred, larger bodied, disabled, or generally not “conventionally attractive” whilst the heroes are most often attractive, fit, healthy, and usually embodying some kind of aesthetic ideal. When this is our childhood, we begin to make those subtle associations between “looks different” and “is evil/bad/immoral/scary”. So we can see not only external ableism in Wyll’s story, but also internalised too as he assumes people will only see him as a monster, that he won’t be able to be a hero like he wanted. Very few people in the real world set out to be literal monster slaying heroes, but many of us have hopes and dreams in our early life. Maybe it’s a dream career, or a qualification we’re working hard to earn, or an ideal life plan that we’ve built up and worked out as our key goal. Disability, whether through accident or sudden illness, can strip those all away very suddenly. This can feel visceral, it can lead to a very real process of grief as we mourn what we could have had whilst trying to adapt to our new normal. It’s important that we do, though, to learn to work with and around long term conditions rather than against them. At the end, we might find that we keep some core part of our dream, but it has changed to fit who we have become as we find our new identity and belonging with disability becoming a part of our life in an inextricable way. For Wyll, he was able to take his skills, his desire to be a hero, and his passion for helping people and turn it all to pledging himself to helping Karlach. He’s still a hero, still The Blade, but this time of Avernus not the Frontiers. Similarly, we might find ourselves taking our passions and finding another avenue for them, or changing how we approach them. For example, someone working as a stunt double might instead become a safety coordinator or a similar oversight role where they can still use their experience and knowledge in a different part of the same field of work. That’s not a common example, but it’s one of the most direct parallels. When we look at the ableism though, this is much more difficult. Externally, of course, we can treat people as people on an individual basis and work on any implicit biases we have when we encounter visible disabilities and try to ensure that we are pushing for accessibility. Internally, it can take a lot more work to change our thoughts and feelings about ourselves and others. It also doesn’t help to pretend we are incapable of being ableist - a lot of it can be subtle, for example it can even be in our use of outdated language.

Ableism and Implicit Bias

I’d also like to take some time on this and mention that implicit biases don’t make us bad people, they are things that are built up subtly by how we were raised and our experience of the world around us. What matters is what we do with those biases - recognising that they are there, and working within ourselves to change them and to ensure they don’t impact how we treat people around us. That’s what makes the real difference. On a very basic level, if you’ve seen a lot of films and tv where dogs are scary, and/or have been barked at or even bitten by a dog, and/or had your parents tell you to be careful around dogs because they are dangerous, then it would be natural to see a dog and feel they are dangerous. But our choice can be to recognise that feeling, where it comes from, and consciously choose to treat this dog the way you would any other similar animal - judge it by its actions, not by our preconceptions. The same might be said of how we might grow up with media of all kinds showing people with visible differences like facial scars. A whole generation with a villain literally named “Scar”, so it’s no surprise that we might see someone with facial scars and instinctively feel intimidated or worried. What matters is how we act and react, what we do and do not do, and how we break down that implicit bias. This is something that Wyll has to deal with after he has changed - he even mentions seeing his own appearance as devilish, despite how quickly he accepts that he was wrong about Karlach and shouldn’t have judged her by how she looks. He’s been able to overcome that bias in how he is treating others - and we do see how readily he helps the tiefling refugees, too - but he has to reconcile that in himself next. Between the scars, the features that make his own reflection feel unfamiliar to himself, it’s really not too dissimilar to someone getting used to the physical changes after an accident, operation, or sudden onset condition that changes things. The implicit bias is different, but it’s still there. Whether it’s getting used to things externally, or even internally, that’s a bridge that many people need to cross; the internalised parts of ableism that are much harder to break through, which is often something people experience with a sudden or new disability.  Often those with chronic conditions or neurodivergencies will be self-critical, believing themselves to be lazy rather than what is actually happening, which is that we reach a point where we can’t simply “push past it” or “get on with it”. That’s the difference with a long term issue and a short term one. If there is an end, then it is easier to go past your limits for a short time because your limits will increase again when you’ve recovered. But something permanent? There’s no recovering, and pushing too hard will make things worse.

And that’s where we need to change what we expect from ourselves - swap our Frontiers for Avernus. Continuing to work against your own body and mind are a fast way to become overwhelmed, frustrated, and burned out. But when you learn what your limits are, and how far you can safely push them without making things worse, you can reach that potential.

Take it from someone who used to be physically fit and active who now has to be sat down 99% of the time - accepting that is the key. Let go of the implicit bias that says you have to be one way, and allow yourself to live in the way that works for you.

It is harder when this is sudden, when one day you’re enjoying hobbies, a career, dreams and goals you’ve worked towards and the next…the next it feels like they’re out of reach forever. It’s important to allow that grieving process, and to accept our reality even if we don’t approve of it.

That’s the same for Wyll, there. He needs to accept that he has changed permanently, but that doesn’t mean he has to approve of it. He doesn’t need to think of it as a positive or good thing to just accept that it is how it is - neutrality is the goal, really, because overcompensating can be patronising or minimise a person’s distress.

Independence And Autonomy

There also needs to be something said about how we as the player react to and around Wyll and his decisions. The best route, in my opinion, is to allow him the freedom to explore his options from a position of non-judgemental support. Where he is encouraged to speak his mind to Ulder, and to explore his own options. There are moments he turns to the player for our opinion, to give our input on what we feel about his future, but at the end of the day it is his choice how he moves forwards with the changes in his life. Similarly, those around us who go through a drastic change in their physical and/or mental health should be permitted that autonomy to decide on what is right for them, and to retain as much independence as they wish (so long as it is safe to do so, of course, which is a decision to be made between the individual and their expert care team rather than a well-meaning friend/family deciding what they can and cannot do).

Identity and Family

Whilst this isn’t universal to all disabled people, a lot of us find that our disability is a part of who we are in a way that’s just as irreversible as the changes Wyll goes through in his appearance. Just like he can’t get rid of his horns or change his eye, or remove the ridges from his skin, we cannot separate ourselves from our disabilities. This is more prevalent in some communities than others, and can really vary from person to person too. The one that springs to mind for me is the Deaf/deaf communities - the capital D is an important distinction, from what I understand, as this encompasses more of Deaf culture like sign language and other things that are unique and important to the Deaf communities. There can be some people who tell us that “you shouldn’t let disability be your identity” or things like that, but actually it is accepting the disabilities as a part of ourselves that can be the most empowering and beneficial long term. Fighting it, pretending it isn’t there, or just denying our reality…that doesn’t help. It isn’t “giving up” to simply accept that “this is how my life is now, and this is what I need to be able to do what I want to do”. Family members can also have a hard time accepting things too. Just like Ulder at first finds it hard to reconcile how much his son has changed, particularly as his own biases come into play, he does eventually listen and learn. This is all we can ask from our own families, and what we need most - for them to hear what we are saying and to accept who we are, as we are. We are disabled, being disabled is a part of our identity, but it is not the only thing about us. It isn’t the entirety of our identity, but it is something we cannot deny or remove entirely, even if it is one that can be invisible.

What We Can Learn From Wyll’s Story

The parallel to Wyll’s story is one that could happen to any one of us at any time. It’s impossible to guarantee that we won’t ever be involved in a traumatic incident or experience a sudden illness that changes the course of our lives. The world can mark us in many ways, so it is important for us to be aware of what we might expect, and how we might better support those around us who experience these life events too. The obvious lesson is around judging appearances and unlearning implicit biases that could impact how we treat ourselves and others. Just because horns and a fiery eye have long been associated with devilish and evil creatures, does not mean that someone who has those very features is evil by nature or cannot be a hero. Wyll proves to us, and to himself, that he is every bit the hero he has always worked hard to be even if he might look like the very fiends he has devoted his life to fighting against. The less obvious one is to recognise that a drastic physical change can take longer to come to terms with internally. Whether that is overcoming internalised ableism and implicit bias, or simply allowing proper time and space for the grief to process at the loss of “what was” to subside into accepting “what is” and looking towards “what can be”. This can’t be rushed, we can’t skip to the end of that process for ourselves or for others. It takes time.

But at the end of the day, having people there who are willing to listen, learn, and support without judging or trying to make decisions for us, that will make the transition towards the “new normal” much more bearable. 

So do keep in mind during disability pride month, that the disabled community is the one minority that anyone could become a part of at any time in their life. 

Supporting the community, fighting for accessibility and equitable treatment, that doesn’t just help us in the here and now, it could help you or your loved ones in the future.

[newtthetranswriter]

Love Transcends Time and Space

Summary: After traveling with Rose and the Doctor for a while Rose goes her separate way, leaving reader and the doctor face their feelings for each other.

   Paring: Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader

Warnings: light angst, bad writing, unrequited love that is actually requited

A/N: This was requested by @shuichiakainx , I hope it lives up to your wishes. Honestly it was a little hard for me to write as some stuff has happened in the past couple years that pulled me from Doctor Who and I thought I was ready to dive back in but turns out I’m not. I did my best to write this and hopefully it's good but I’m going to step back from doctor who for a bit longer. I did enjoy writing this but I'm just not ready to face my own personal struggles. any way have fun reading this if you have requests for any other fandoms listed in my pinned post feel free to ask but I’m taking doctor who off the table for a bit.  MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

Word count:1116

I have been traveling with the Doctor for about a year now. I had grown up with Rose and she introduced me to the Doctor after the Sycorax had tried to take over earth on Christmas. I thought he was strange at first but we got along really well. After the Doctor had regained his strength from recently regenerating, he offered for me to travel with them and see things I could only dream of.

It’s been so fun seeing planets in far away galaxies and experiencing crucial moments in history. I’ve had so much fun, except all good things come to an end. You see, on our recent stop back to earth we had an encounter with Torchwood. Torchwood had opened a breach between our earth and a parallel world, letting cybermen through into our world. While dealing with the cybermen we also were faced with a group of daleks. Dealing with both was difficult but the Doctor found a way to deal with both problems.

He figured out that if reversed the breach anything that traveled through the breach would be pulled into the void. He had sent Jackie, Mickey, Pete (a version of Rose’s father from the other world), and Rose to the other world to be safe. The doctor and I worked together to open the breach sending the cybermen and daleks into the void. After the breach had closed we made our way back to the Tardis.

“Where are we going now Doctor?” I asked, trying to figure out what the plan was now that we were down a member of our rag tag group. The Doctor looked up for a moment before going to fiddle with something on the console in front of him. 

“We are sending a message to Rose. There is a small breach still open where we can get a message through to her one last time.” He answered my question quickly before setting a location into the Tardis’s computer. The distinct sounds of the Tardis moving echoed through the space as we moved to a random spot in the universe.

I watched as The Doctor was able to connect to Rose through the breach. I spaced out most of the conversation. I know it sounds callus but I didn’t want to listen as two of my closest friends said goodbye to each other. It seems selfish but I don't want to hear the inevitable, I don’t want to face the truth. You see, in the time I’ve traveled with the Doctor, I've developed feelings for him. Traveling with someone you love for so long you notice things about them, and for me I’ve noticed who The Doctor treats those he loves and I have also noticed that I’m not the one he loves. He’s always been gentler with Rose, having secret conversations that stop right as I walk in the room. I’m just too scared to hear it be said out loud in the open.

“I promise I will tell them." I heard The Doctor say as I slipped back into the realm of paying attention. I was confused by this, tell who what, what is he talking about. “Well the breaching is closing this is goodbye, and enjoy the rest of your peaceful life Rose Tyler.” The Doctor said goodbye as the connection dropped.

I was sitting by the console still trying to figure out what he had to tell someone, and who that someone was. I was also confused by him choosing to only say goodbye when it was his last chance to speak with Rose, wouldn’t it have made more sense to say ‘I love you’ if it was your last chance speaking with your partner. I was so caught up in my thoughts that I didn't see the Doctor coming towards me until he was sitting next to me.

“What has you so far away?” The Doctor asked as he watched my face.

“What did you and Rose talk about? I was spaced out for a bit.” I responded with another question trying to avoid telling The Doctor my thoughts.

“Oh nothing much, just caught up on how her and everyone else is doing in the other world. Also apparently Jackie is pregnant, that's good news.” He explained what he and Rose spoke about.

“Oh that’s great news, but what was the last bit about promising to tell someone something?” I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me. 

I watched as the Doctor scratched the back of his neck contemplating something before looking me in the eyes. “You see, I’ve been meaning to tell you this for a while now, actually Rose has been trying to get me to tell you for awhile, But anyways. I really like you, and not in just the you are fun to have around way, it’s the kind of liking you that makes me worry more than necessary. It’s weird, in my long existence I’ve never felt this way before. I know you may not feel the same but I had to tell you. If this makes things weird I can take you home, and we can forget this ever happened.” He said leaving me speechless.

I wasn’t sure how to respond. I wasn’t expecting this at all. It was a dream come true. I've loved the Doctor for some time now and having him tell me he feels the same feels unreal. I was silent for a moment thinking of how to respond, right as I was about to respond I could see the Doctor lose hope. “ I get it, I’ll have the tardis take us back to earth and you can be rid of me.” he said as he stood up to set the new location.

Realizing The Doctor probably thought I was rejecting him, I stood up and grabbed his wrist spinning him to face me. Without thinking twice I leaned forward and kissed him. It was strange at first but once we both relaxed into it, it was warm and soft and not like anything i had ever felt before. 

“I like you too. I don’t want to go back to earth, I want to stay with you as long as you'll have me.” I said after pulling away. I watched as his face shifted from shock to joy as he realized what was happening. He smiled at me and leaned back in for another kiss.

While we were absorbed in each other's presence our moment was interrupted by a shout. “WHERE IN THE BLOODY HELL AM I?” Yelled a woman in a wedding dress.

We shared a look of confusion before silently agreeing that we will get through this together.