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notreallythatlost · 1 month ago

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FROM MY SOUL

pairing: halbrand/sauron x female!elf!reader

summary: you were betrayed by your great love sauron a long, long time ago. and when he returned, you want him to pay for what he did.

warnings: 18+, mdni, unprotected sex, jealous!sauron, handjob, oral (female receiving), p in v, rough sex, mentions of sub!sauron but switches to dom!sauron really fast (i couldn’t resist), blood licking, dark!reader

word count: 3k

note: i’m still alive at posting fics! 🙈 i think this is one of my personal favorites and i really hope you’ll like it too. xx also, i wanted to say thank you again, for all your support. it always encourages me so much. <33 and thanks to @sansaorgana for the gif inspiration, it hasn’t left my mind since then. 🤪

this fic is inspired by last night’s mascara by griff

THE RINGS OF POWER MASTERLIST

The air smelled musty as you entered the prison. But besides that disgusting stench, there was something else that caught your attention. A presence so powerful that it was impossible to resist.

“I'll be honest, when I first saw you here, I didn't want to believe it,” you said, the sound of your voice echoing off the walls. There was no reason to be secretive — after all, you were the only ones here.

“Sauron, the Dark Lord, has returned. And imagine, he is in Númenor. I wonder what he wants here?” you continued as you stopped in front of his cell. You knew how much he hated that name and yet you couldn’t stop yourself from saying it.

The man slowly sat up and kept his eyes on the floor in front of him. “You know exactly what I want here,” he said quietly and turned his head in your direction.

You could feel his gaze gliding over your body. Hot and full of desire. “Y/N, it's been a long time,” he continued, standing up to walk towards the bars and into the light of the torches.

Now you could see his face, which looked pretty scratched, he must have gotten into a fight with someone. “Do I want to know why you ended up in this cell?” you asked, raising an eyebrow slightly, which caused a smile on his lips.

“Dispute about a woman,” he said, leaning his arms against the bars, as you raised your eyebrows. “Don’t start…,” he murmured and his gaze fell down to your hand. “I see you haven't forgotten me. Or the things we did together,” he continued and you rolled your eyes. You hid your hand behind your back, and with it the ring on your finger.

“But that's not why you're here, am I right?” you asked, ignoring his words. “What brought you to Númenor?” With that, you stepped closer to him and looked him in the eyes, without any emotion.

There was a brief silence and only the faint rustling of the torches could be heard, then he began to speak. “To be honest, it was just a coincidence at first. But when I stepped onto this island and felt your presence, I knew that fate had brought me here. Back to the only woman who was ever able to love me. And maybe, after all these years, she is ready to stand by my side.”

In another time, his words might have triggered something in you, but now only an unimpressed laugh escaped your lips. “How long did it take you to rehearse that? A century?” you asked and Sauron frowned.

“Believe what you want,” he growled threateningly, his pride hurt by the slight undertone of mockery in your voice. “I’m only telling the truth.”

“Just as it is true that you betrayed me? Betrayed me at the moment when I needed you most? You knew what you were doing when you set the orcs on me out of fear that I might, one day, have more power than you could ever bear,” you spat out the words, but he didn't even blink.

“And yet you still wear that ring,” he noted, raising his hand as you raised yours in the same way. For a moment you stared at the silver band which shimmered in the light of the torches, remembering the moment he had put it on your finger.

It’s you and me against the world.

That was his promise. And he broke it with turning his back to you.

With a snort, you ripped your hand from his power. “I wear this ring to remind me of one thing. That I will never trust the words of a moron like you again.”

With that, you whirled around and left him behind, alone in the cell where he had brought himself into.

You would have loved to plunge your dagger into his chest, but you would have to wait. And patience was a virtue, after all.

The wine tingled as it ran down your throat and you sighed softly. It felt good and distracted you from the fact that your lover was on this island with you. That he was still alive, even though you had thought him dead for so long.

“You look like you could use some company,” a voice said, and when you raised your head, you looked into Kemen’s eyes.

“To be honest, I'd much rather be alone right now,” you replied, but he didn't seem to care what you wanted. He sat down on the bench opposite you and looked at you with a hungry look. “Believe me, I can tell when someone doesn't want to be alone. And the way you're drinking that wine, you definitely need some distraction,” he explained and you snorted.

“Oh, yeah? And you want to give me that distraction?” you asked skeptically, raising your eyebrows as you placed the mug on the wooden table.

Kemen just looked you in the eyes as he reached across the table for your hand. You looked down at his fingers that were holding yours and then raised your gaze again to look into his eyes.

A few moments later he was pushing your back against the wall of an alley while he greedily devoured your mouth. It wasn't that you found him attractive. He was a nasty little snake, but in that moment he could give you what you needed and that it was a distraction from the man, who hurt you so many centuries before but still held your heart in his hand.

“You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this,” the mortal gasped against your lips and you had to control yourself from rolling your eyes. “You better be quiet and keep kissing me,” you replied and your lips collided again. But just as his hands were about to wander down your body, he stopped.

Or rather, someone ripped him away from you, causing him to stumble backwards into a few barrels that were behind him. “You better get out of here before I kill you,” Halbrand growled menacingly, making Kemen swallow hard. He gave you a last look, before he turned and hurried away.

With a heavy sigh, you wiped your mouth, erasing the feeling of his lips, as you casually pushed yourself away from the wall.

“Now you've chased him away. I just wanted to have a little fun,” you said with a sly smile, which made Halbrand snort.

“Seriously? He's not even attractive. Nor even worthy of you. Besides...” he began, moving closer. “I'm the only one who's allowed to touch you like this.” You could see his eyes darken and you took a step towards him. Your hand went to his chest and you looked up at him through your eyelashes.

“Sweetheart, who can touch me is still my decision. And it's definitely not you,” you said, pushing past him and wanting to leave to follow your toy, but he grabbed your wrist.

“It's you and me against the world,” he said, making you freeze. You closed your eyes, let the words sink in and gathered all your hatred before turning around and shoving him in the chest. “You damn bastard! Do you really think that I will fall for these words again? That I will give myself to you again as if you hadn't ripped my heart out of my chest?”

By now he was standing with his back pressed against the wall and stared at you with a wild look. Your breathing was heavy and you were about to slap him, but instead your mouths collided.

Your fingers dug into the fabric of his clothes while he held your head in his hands. He devoured you completely, just as if he were a starving man. His tongue ran over yours while his other hand clung desperately to your hip.

An angry growl escaped your lips as you pulled away from him again, grabbing the dagger from under the skirt of your dress to press it against his throat. “I hate you. I hate you for what you did to me. You promised to give me everything. Instead, you took everything from me. And I will make you pay for that,” you hissed against his lips, but he didn't seem to care at all.

“Go on, do it. Make me pay for it,” he growled, his voice full of desire, giving you goosebumps. “But you can't deny what your body is telling me so clearly. You're dying to feel me, aren't you?” he continued, his words against your mouth and you pressed him a little harder against the wall.

The dagger was still at his throat and he slowly raised his hand. He wrapped it around the blade and pushed it away, causing pitch-black blood to ooze from his hand and drip onto the floor. “You know I never wanted to hurt you, Y/N. I wanted you by my side, believe me,” he said and pushed himself away from the wall, forcing you to back away. The blade was still cutting into his skin, but you didn't think about letting it down.

“Then why did you betray me?” you asked him, your voice shaking with suppressed anger.

“Because otherwise you would have gone down with me,” he answered, the look in his eyes so honest that you slowly lowered the knife. “You want to hear the real reason I came to Númenor? It's you,” he added, raising his hand to stroke your cheek, but you clasped his wrist before he could touch you.

Your eyes were locked, neither of you able to look away as you took his hand and ran your tongue over the bleeding wound in his palm. The sweet taste of his blood filled your senses and you saw his mouth open in a soft moan.

The dagger fell from your hand and onto the ground as Halbrand's lips crashed against yours again. He groaned as his tongue touched yours again and he could taste his own blood.

Soon his hands were everywhere, in your hair, on your ass and your breasts — but you had no intention of letting him take control. In the middle of the kiss you paused and looked up at him with an evil smile. “You really think I'll forgive you that easily?” you asked and he frowned. “I want you to beg. I want you to fall to your knees in front of me and beg for forgiveness,” you continued and his jaw tensed.

Before he could protest, you pushed him back against the wall again and your hand stroked the bulge in his pants. “Do you have any idea how much pain you've caused me? How many times I've wished you were alive so I could be the one to stab a damn dagger into your heart?” you said and Sauron hissed as you applied light pressure to his erection.

You could feel his cock twitching in his pants, desperate for your touch, but you were far from finished.

“I turned my back on the Valar, and yet I begged them to wash you from my soul. Your touches, your kisses, everything that was left of you,” a tear ran down your cheek, “so that I no longer have to bear the pain of your betrayal, but they did not hear me,” you continued, pushing his hand up. Fresh blood had oozed from the wound, but instead of licking it up, you smeared it on the skin of his neck.

You slowly leaned forward, one hand in his hair, pulling his head back. “And here you are and I finally get the chance to take my revenge,” you whispered before sliding your tongue over his neck and licking the blood from his skin.

Halbrand shuddered and gasped as he moved his hips against your body. But you wouldn't give him that release. You wanted to hear him beg for it.

“Please,” escaped his lips and you bit your lower lip.

“Please what?” you breathed and began to massage him through the fabric. “Use your words, deceiver,” you demanded and he growled in frustration at your choice of words.

“Please, touch me,” he said and you placed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

Without saying another word, you opened his pants and took his cock in your hand, which made Halbrand almost gasped in relief. With your other hand you gently brushed some hair from his face and he leaned almost longingly into your touch.

“Of all the faces you've ever worn... this is my favorite, my dearest Mairon,” you whispered, slowly starting to move your hand up and down his length.

His eyes closed and his head fell to the side as you squeezed a little harder, causing him to moan softly. “How does that feel?” you asked, pausing when he didn't answer. “Have you lost your voice?” you breathed against his lips and he growled softly.

“It feels good. Finally feeling your touch again... I've been longing for this for so—” he broke off as you ran your thumb over the tip and smeared the precum.

“Fuck!” he groaned and you couldn't help but smile. “That's the plan,” you replied and started moving your hand faster until his cock began to twitch in your hand. His breathing became deeper and you could tell he was close, but you weren't finished yet.

Just as he was about to reach his climax, you let go of him and his moan turned into a frustrated growl. “You damn...” the words died in his throat as he opened his eyes and his gaze fell on your naked body.

He could see how much you wanted him too, because your arousal was clearly visible on the inside of your thighs, practically inviting him to taste you.

“You will be the death of me...” he said and took a step towards you, but you stopped him by placing your hand on his chest again, brushing your fingertips through the dark curls growing there.

“No, not yet. Not until you're ready to kneel for me,” you said, but he decided your dominance was over now. He came closer, your hand now trapped between your bodies, and slid his hand over the curve of your ass.

“I would always fall to my knees for you, my love,” he whispered against your lips, gliding to the back of your knee with his rough hand and lifted your leg to his hip.

With a smile, you leaned against the stone wall behind you and looked him in the eyes as he slid his finger through your folds. After that, he raised his finger to his lips and licked up your wetness, making you whimper.

“Are you getting impatient now?” Sauron asked, unable to suppress a grin, then, without warning, he sank to his knees and guided your leg so that it was over his shoulder.

Finally, he dove between your legs and ran his tongue through your folds. Your body trembled under the intensity of the touch and you clung your hands to his hair. Your lips were slightly open, but no sound came out.

Only when he dipped his tongue into your wetness, did you moan and lean forward to press his head deeper between your legs. But Halbrand put a hand on your stomach and pushed your upper body back, so you had to lean against the wall again.

He started lapping at you as if you were his favorite meal and didn’t stop until you whimpered his name, then he pulled away from you and stood up.

“I have missed you, you have no idea how much. Even when I was nothing more than a mass without a body or a brain, all I could think about was that beautiful face and how much I loved fucking that beautiful little cunt,” he murmured and began to gently kiss up your jaw. “I wanted to marry you. I wanted you by my side. And in the end, I had no choice but to betray you — so I could protect you,” he continued, pressing a kiss just below your ear, the stubble making you shiver. “If I hadn't done that, you would have suffered the same fate as me. And unlike me, you wouldn't have come back.”

His hand lifted your leg to his hip again and you felt him stroking your entrance with the tip of his cock.

“What if I hadn't managed to escape? What if they had killed me?” you asked him before letting out a shaky breath. “Oh love, I never doubted you, so why should I have started with that?”

With those words, he thrusted his entire length into you. A breathless cry escaped you, and as you looked into Halbrand's eyes, could see the darkness spreading in them. Dark lines became visible on the skin around his eyes for a split second, making him seem so much more menacing — but to you, even more attractive.

It caused your core to clench around his cock and a gasp escaped your lips. Your fingers slid over the lines, which disappeared right after, and his gaze met yours. “You are mine. You always have been,” he said, beginning to move his hips against yours. “You can never escape me.” With that, he pulled out of you before thrusting hard into you again, drawing a frustrated cry from you.

“You will never be able to wash me from your soul. And even if I do, I will find you and defile it again, because you are mine.” Your head fell to the side and you breathed his name. “Mine.” Another thrust and a tremor in your body as you met his movement.

Suddenly he slipped out of you, grabbed with both hands under your thighs and lifted you up so that you had to wrap your legs around his waist. Seconds later he was inside you again and fucked you mercilessly against the wall.

The rough stone scratched your back while the most sinful sounds escaped your lips.

And when he felt you approaching your climax, he put a hand on your cheek and stroked your lower lip with his thumb. Your eyes met again and you could hear him in your head. Heard the words in the Black Speech that made you fall apart.

You and me against the world.

And you realized, that it was true. You could never really wash him from your soul.

2024 notreallythatlost

#halbrand x reader #sauron x reader #the rings of power #rop x reader #halbrand smut #sauron smut

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ma1dita · 8 months ago

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when the curtains close

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 5.3k

summary: (post-tlt) The one where you lose two people in the Labyrinth that day. All strings are cut. (Pollux, Annabeth, Percy, and Mr. D find out the biggest difference between you and Luke.) (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: yeah to me this fic sounds and feels like that tiktok of the girl humming to her microwave. split povs: pollux, annabeth, your depictions of the titular battle of the labyrinth at CHB, some blood/gore, death & grief. the usual. you forced me to by lizzy mcalpine. references to cat on a hot tin roof by tennessee williams if you squint

(posted 5/14/24)

—

The first time Pollux has a panic attack, time seems to stop and the world keeps moving on without him.

He’s reminded of a time when you rambled on about how anxiety takes possession of the senses like a moment frozen in a snapshot meant for you to identify. In the memory, you had your feet kicked up on the dash flipping through a DSM-5 while he and Castor took turns speeding up and down Farm Road (totally normal older sister behavior from you, and when a cop pulled you over, the three of you narrowly escaped a ticket by talking in riddles and godly smoke that smelled like grapes). Pollux still remembers the sound of laughter in the car blending like three different chords to an archaic melody (or squawking crows in the strawberry fields)— the bond between you three laid out before time knew limits and was always meant to be.

It’s still his favorite song. You’re their favorite (and only) sister, they love to joke. These are facts that will never change.

“You two have each other, and well, I’ve got this,” you had said, the Zippo flicking open and closed against your thumb in the blossoming darkness of the car. Pink and purple rays of waning light blanketed the old hatchback as it steadily made its way back towards Half-Blood Hill, comfortable silence shared in the way only siblings can stand to be quiet—when there are no words needed to get a point across. But you’ve always set yourself apart from the pack, not needing anyone like how they need each other.

Not since Luke left, at least. The growing distance between you three since your untimely resignation from camp was proof enough. Pollux’s eyes met Castor’s in the rearview mirror as they both noticed your sad smile. His brother’s voice broke through the silence then, having always been the one blunt enough to say what was on his mind, “You’ve got us too if you let us see you more often.” Your fidgeting stops.

“It’s not you two, it’s just hard to be back here sometimes. I see things for what they used to be instead of how they really are now. Now it’s just… it has to be all business.”

Pollux cracked a smile, “S’what you get for growing up. Soon we’ll just be annoying voices in your head like you are to us.” Shutting your textbook, you turned to look at them from the passenger seat, eyes that match theirs darting between their blond heads, “All of us have to grow up eventually. Except maybe you two— I prefer you in my nightmares like the kids from The Shining. Whenever you get sick of Dad, come see me. Gods know that camp deserves a break from the two of you too.” Your knuckles knocked against both of their heads affectionately as he put the car in park, “My built-in bodyguards, huh? Always looking out for me.”

All words and meaning escape Pollux now as he stands in the greenery of the North Woods with battle gear ill-fitted to his large frame. It’s the first siege he’s ever taken part in, the first time he’s had to use battle strategies outside of Capture the Flag and the first time he’s slashed his way through monsters and demigods with the intent to try and kill or be killed. Sword and Shield could have never prepared any of them for this—as his eyes meet Castor’s and then yours with all of you thinking the same thing, the three of you join the sea of iridescent orange through mind-numbing black moving like a sharp three-pronged sword.

This type of stuff isn’t typical for him, he thinks. He and Castor are used to being comedic relief— being the source of laughs and juice boxes for pesky little campers instead of facing the real world outside the boundaries of the Mist. Perhaps your father babied them to make up for the time he lost with you, but there’s a moment where he wonders how being kept soft will keep him alive in a world as harsh as this one.

Childlike innocence is ripped away from them in the bubble they’ve inhabited until this moment. Home is now a warzone and like lambs set up for slaughter, the twins both turn to look at you as a shuddering gasp leaves your mouth at the carnage in your surroundings, monster blood and fallen friends and enemies at your feet. Breaking away from formation to take a deep breath, he looks at the sky and wonders where your father is, but smoke and soot fill his lungs and he coughs desperately for a breath of fresh air.

Pollux thinks he must have stopped breathing before Castor took his last breath. It wasn’t supposed to be a competition, but sometimes life was just funny like that.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

Just like you told him.

Castor was always the more manic one while Pollux knew how to endure. Children of Dionysus are forced to befriend insanity before it makes an enemy out of them—twisting the ugly into what’s real and creating something beautiful out of the deranged. You’ve shown the boys how you detach from emotion by recognizing the details—separating fact and fiction, a methodical process only describable by the blood that runs through your veins. Pollux doesn’t know where to start—everything happens so fast but it plays out in front of him like someone put the pieces together to a stop-motion animation.

He sees Castor’s sword fall to the ground when he gets slashed on the forearm and sees him get clubbed over the head with a metal weapon he’s only seen bad renditions forged for theater practices and hanging on the walls of the armory. Castor falls first to his knees, and then into the dirt with a thud. He never knew there could be that much blood coming out of a person, much less a mirror image of himself. Pollux sees your face come into his line of vision, deep maroon splatters on your face glittering with hints of ichor and then you’re moving because he can’t. The enemy is coming back for him now, and for a moment he wonders if Castor will be mad if he lets him. He sees you turn in an instant, swinging your sword down on the neck of the aggressor, a teenager not much older than he and his brother are—were. It’s funny how his brain immediately makes the switch to past tense, and how he can’t stop thinking about how he’ll now and forever be older than his twin. Pollux then sees you catch the body of the boy you just killed as life seeps out of him slower than it did for Castor.

It doesn’t make him feel any better, though.

His knees hit the ground next to his twin, touching the sludge of dirt soft like quicksand and moist with what he hopes is not blood, but Pollux is not quite sure of what else there is to hope for. His fist is wrapped around Castor’s shirtsleeve, touching faded orange and sweat as he holds on for dear life. Maybe if he tries hard enough his soul will still be intertwined with his. Your hand touches his shoulder, five fingers reaching out to brush the back of his neck and the feeling of your skin helps him refocus a bit, even if you’re saying something he can’t make out. Then the metal of your Zippo lighter feels cool to the touch within his palm and he knows what he needs to do.

The battle isn’t over, but for the three of you, everything stops here. There is no going forward without your brother. You were never meant to be children of war.

Pollux hears the sound of his heartbeat thundering through his ears, blood rushing through his veins and can’t help but notice the silence amid the chaos. There are no words fit for this—and even if there were, Castor and you were always the more talkative ones. He hears the spark of the purple flame between his fingers, blowing the smoke over him and his brother’s body, and their father’s powers blanket them like how you used to tuck them into bed, warm and safe. This is what your family is—unconventional and unending even in different realms of existence. And then Grover’s scream of panic echoes through the air and everyone hears that. Hysteria ensues as monsters and demigods alike run amok, and Pollux realizes he’s stopped shaking.

In his father’s domain, he will always find comfort.

You stand above him now directing campers calmly with a free hand—a brewing storm crackling underneath your skin that he now understands. Hidden by the illusion of smoke, Pollux’s tired bones rest alongside his brother’s dead ones— together as they always were meant to be.

The three of you together, his little family—that is a fact he hoped would never change.

The smell of grapes envelops him as he leans his forehead against your muddy leg… when did the battle end? It almost masks the scent of death that rips through the air as your hand brushes through his sandy hair. Pollux stinks of sweat and you stifle a laugh as you see him smell his armpit. You three were always the same type of fucked up. He doesn’t look down at Castor laid across his lap but knows he would’ve found it funny too. Ignorance of reality even for a moment serves as a comfort. Purple meets purple as he looks up at you with a smile that doesn’t fit his face anymore and he croaks, “Wonder what dad would say about our first battle…”

Glory was never meant to be this bittersweet—it tastes like blood in his mouth until he wipes it away from his cheek and realizes it’s Castor’s. In a way, it’s his too, everything about him and within him is exactly the same down to the star stuff the fates wove them from.

“I’ll be the one to tell him. You take care of Castor,” you answer, as if there’s anything else he would want to do and then he realizes you’re crying— and he’s seeing all of the pieces put together in front of him in this photograph in his mind.

Pollux blinks slowly.

Suddenly the image he has of you is more defined— there is new meaning to the sadness you could never shake off all these years, and he is too young to lose his greatest love, which makes him realize then that so were you.

How long does this have to go on? he wonders, grabbing onto your hand with an eagerness only comparable to the feeling he got when you and Luke whisked him and Castor away from Florida all those years ago. This punishment of living while half of his soul does not—what is he supposed to do next? This was supposed to be the safe place. There is nowhere left to run. His thumb rubs circles into the back of your shaking blood-soaked hand, a secret within the smoke.

Pollux thinks there will always be a part of him frozen in time now, a memory of this day hung up in his mind like a portrait as he holds Castor’s cold hand in his warm one.

—

Annabeth finds you in the middle of the strawberry fields before the sun sets. She knows you won’t be sleeping tonight, not if you can fight it— not when there’s so much to do. You’ve long grown out of your ripped-up and tie-dyed camp shirts, and the one slung on your frame is newly pressed and starchy from the storage room of the Big House, still stiff against your freshly washed skin. When she’s close enough to touch you, you’ve been scrubbed clean of today.

She doesn’t have to be a daughter of Athena to know that you know that she’s there even if you can’t see her, but for once she feels like she has to hide. For once, Annabeth Chase doesn’t know what to say. How can she explain the feeling of guilt that coils around her brain like barbed wire—how can she even begin to apologize for the thing wearing her brother’s skin, knowing that it killed yours? For once, her hubris is crushed by the sinking feeling of humiliation.

“Was your first quest all you thought it would be, Annie?”

As she takes her navy cap off, silver braided strands around her face wave in the wind as a reminder of what Luke put her through. Though as she looks at you now with your berry-stained fingers plucking at stems one by one instead of using your powers, she thinks that your mind is elsewhere—anywhere but here, where everything is a painful reminder of your five years as a camper.

Five years with Luke.

Mourning him isn’t a new feeling for either of you, even though he comes in and out of your lives like a poltergeist you want to bash across the head, just always out of reach. But he’s a constant, even when he’s not here and he’s what binds you two together as you huddle hidden away from the rest of camp.

“He did this for you.”

It’s not a question, more so a fact out of Annie’s mouth when you finally meet her eyes and sigh, “Luke’s always had a way going about things. The most stubborn man to ever live.” You toss another strawberry into the crate at your feet. No one’s working right now, trying to tend to the injured and the dead. Everyone’s doing their best to chase away the nightmares that are bound to come, and she knows you’ll be making rounds with her on the night shift to ease everyone’s anxieties. But there’s a thought so strong it makes her head hurt, bursting at the seams until she can’t stop with her last-ditch effort to fix her found family.

“Maybe if we find him, we can save—”

“He’s been out of time for a while now, Annabeth. We both knew that,” you say, voice firm and unwavering. You’ve never sounded so monotone before, and it hits her as her mouth falls agape, “You’re giving up on him? Why… why would you give up on him?” Anger courses through her veins like fire and she’s mad that she’s at the center of this prophecy, of Hermes’s anger for his doomed son who will love you until the ends of the earth.

And what of her?

What of the hope she has in happy endings, how is it that you’re so damn calm? Annabeth kicks at the crate, strawberries rolling out in different directions and your jaw tightens as you let her be petulant, let her scream and yell until her inner child can catch up with the reality of the world around you.

“How could you?”

Your name echoes as she repeats it, grabbing at your shoulders and she’s as desperate as the truth that shakes her when you cup her face in your hands and wipe her tears.

“You’ve carried the weight of the world Annabeth– you know what it feels like to let it go. It’s time to let him go. There’s nothing I can do or say to fix this.”

Then it hits her that you knew of his fate and yet this was still the outcome. There was nothing else to do but watch him be puppeteered by a Titan and have to fight evil while it wears his face.

“He came to you after he saw me, didn’t he? Why didn’t you tell me? Why don’t you love him anymore?”

Because it wouldn’t have changed a thing, your eyes say. Instead, you grimace as you say, “Wouldn’t that be funny if it were true?” You lean down and pick up the fallen berries, some bruised and covered in dirt, and then you look at her again with teary eyes.

“Some prophecy huh? To lose a love to worse than death. What could we have done besides love him until the end?”

“He’s still in there. I know you know that too. Don’t talk about him like he’s not,” Annabeth insists, and a sad smile settles upon your face. It’s as gentle as the kiss of the breeze on your cheeks.

“I lost a brother today, Annie.”

“Me too.”

—

The funny thing about planning funerals is that with all the fuss it takes to organize one, you still find extra time on your hands. Barely getting any sleep and dragging yourself out of your dad’s bed, Pollux snores loudly next to you after hours of working on Castor’s shroud. Sleep wasn’t expected for either of you, but being unconscious was the only way of giving your brains a reprieve. The both of you have been busy doubling down on the preparations, even if it means Mr. D won’t be back in time while he’s out rallying gods for war.

The faster Castor’s earthly body is reconnected with his soul, the easier his trip will be into the Underworld, Nico says, and it’s funny how comforting the little emo pipsqueak can be when it comes to matters of death.

Perhaps this is the solace you bring to others with things you’re able to control—keeping camp afloat is something you were always good at, and helping every traumatized child that comes up to you for a juice box or a lullaby eases the guilt that follows you. Walking around Camp Half-Blood for more than a weekend made you feel like a judge, jury, and executioner. Though most of the campers from almost five years ago have either aged out, defected, or died—the ones that remain still look at you like you’re trouble.

Perhaps you always will be.

You even found yourself with the time to pray to Hermes last night for your brother’s safe passage into the afterlife, though if he’s angry at Annabeth, he must hate you for letting Luke go. Dinner didn’t seem appetizing enough anyway, so your whole plate was tossed into the hearth. You hope he likes chicken and rice.

But if a god can’t fight fate, what did he expect you to do?

The Iris Message to your dad last night was difficult, to say the least. Pollux’s hands shook as he continued to paint grape vines onto the silk cloth and the both of you didn’t say anything when your father started to cry. He out of all of the gods knows what it’s like to be tested to the limits—to endure pain and it’s a gift you and your brother are grateful for in times like these. Watching the god display the human emotion that either of you couldn’t as freely made it more real though.

There was also the interesting predicament of Chris Rodriguez being locked up in the basement of the Big House. Replacing screaming fits with serenity was almost second nature, and your gentle hands were what got Clarisse to truly respect you again for the first time in years. You could hear her sneak downstairs and talk to him while he slept (and the look in her eyes when you’d greet her with a cup of coffee made it known to you that she finally understands what it means to love someone who’s lost—two demigod daughters filled with a lot of rage and hurt were more alike than they think).

So the morning of your little brother’s funeral, you found yourself on the shoreline of Canoe Lake, setting your Redbull against the post of the dock and looking out onto the water.

You needed to do something with your hands. In the past few days, if your fingers were not occupied by pen and paper, a guitar, supply crates, or anything else that was helpful to others and all the more distracting for you, it’s been so easy to pick at any little thing. Perhaps it was your subconscious trying to reflect the damage on the inside, but today, your nail polish was chipped beyond belief. A small price to pay to not lose it without a signature boyish smile to ease your worries and amber eyes that could help you escape from the routine.

Running camp was always easier back then with your runaway boy and his scarred cheek.

How pathetic.

Crouched over in the sand, you plucked stones and filled your pockets with them. They knocked against each other — weighing your pockets down as you walked closer to the dock. Swinging your feet off the side and chucking them into the water, you could barely achieve a ripple.

It’s so quiet that you end up wondering if the rocks in your pockets would weigh you down to the bottom of the lake. It must be nice down there, to exist away from everything.

Bubbles surface slowly in front of you, then Percy’s head bobs in the water as he squints at you through sunlight.

“You chucked a rock at my head!”

A smile tugs at your lips, almost indiscernible but definitely there, “I was trying to skip them. Didn’t know you were doing water tricks in there, kid.” His grin gleams like freshwater pearls, pulling himself up onto the dock as his hand clasps yours. Shaking his sopping hair, Percy’s gangly frame sits next to yours like a wet bag of sand—all wrinkly and misshapen and sprinkling you with lakewater.

“Maybe next time don’t pick rocks the size of your fist. How many have you got in there? Your aim is scarily accurate,” he laughs and you huff and shake your head when his hand sticks into your pocket and takes out a few smooth ones to roll around in his hand. You mirror him, watching him skip a few stones into the water that reach a good distance before sinking into the depths of the lake.

There’s something sad about feeling comfortable to trauma dump on the teenage son of Poseidon, but with the way he grabs your arm at your third unsuccessful toss of a rock, you can’t do anything else but sigh.

“Why didn’t any of you call me, Percy?”

He was waiting for this question—it’s been banging around in his head since the beginning of Annabeth’s quest, and perhaps her talk with you yesterday didn’t go as expected so once again he’s left with the difficult part.

Things happen to turn out pretty difficult for him a lot, he's noticed.

Many things could have been made easier in the past few weeks: Ariadne being your stepmother and her blessing to you would’ve made the Labyrinth easier to navigate, and having another demigod to fight alongside him instead of a mortal girl would’ve been a plus too. But he looks at you with ocean eyes and a smaller smile that reminds you of how he looked at you when you dropped him off in Montauk the summer you met him and quit your head counselor job.

“You’ve already made a lot of difficult decisions. We weren’t sure if…”

The rotten wood beneath you creaks under your shifting weight as you turn to him, tucking your legs underneath your bottom.

“Didn’t think I could handle it?”

He shakes his head, “The opposite, actually. Annabeth has this notion that you’re the only one that can save him. You know, back on my first quest I met Luke’s dad and he told me something…”

You swallow instead of answering. There’s no way Percy is giving you Hermes’s advice right now. Somehow this feels like karmic retribution after years of spiting that asshole, and what he tells you next is more of a sign that it must be true.

“He said, ‘Do you know what that feels like? To be so close to someone you love knowing neither of you has any choice but to keep hurting each other?’ I didn’t get it then, but I do now.”

“With Luke and his mom?” you ask, picking at the remaining slivers of varnish on your thumbnail.

“With you and Luke. I didn’t call you, because… why would I want to see you hurt after everything?” Percy says this like it’s something he would do for everyone.

Perhaps it is, but the knot that forms in your throat feels as heavy as the boulder you almost sunk into his skull. He’s tall enough to lean your head against now, and you don’t mind the water spots that will form along the side of your funeral outfit. The shape of him it leaves will remind you of the little brother you gained through so much loss.

“Plus he has a new girlfriend. Absolute horse of a girl,” he jokes. It slips over your head but you still giggle, “I could’ve taken her.”

“I know, that was Grover’s worry. You’re prettier anyway…” Percy pauses, and then clears his throat, “You’ve always taken care of this place, y’know? Even after….I just think someone ought to take care of you.”

Your shoulder bumps against his as you finally skip a rock. It only bounces across the water twice and you think Percy might have had something to do with it, but you’re not bothered by the help this time around.

—

You wake up in the dark of night to see your dad looming in the doorway to his office. With drool and a post-it stuck to your cheek, he comes over to ruffle your hair in amicable silence.

“Hard at work or hardly working?” he chuckles, leaning over your shoulder to scan over the paperwork sorted into piles for him to sign from his absence.

“Hm. You wish,” you scoff, leaning against your arm as you look at him. He’s not in his usual eyesore of attire, wearing a clean-pressed suit with his hair slightly slicked back.

“You look good. The meeting went okay?”

“Grover will be fine. The Council of Cloven Elders? Not so much. Neither are the gods ready to take sides. Putting out little fires everywhere as we speak.”

The wheels of the office chair roll as you swing your feet, and if you both listen closely enough you can hear Pollux snoring upstairs. Chiron loved the earplugs you gave him.

Your father’s face smooths out a bit at the sight of you and the sound of his son’s breathing upstairs and he asks, “Are you? Good?”

A shrug slides off your shoulders, “How does one be good in a world like this one?”

A startling scream echoes off the walls of the Big House, rattling the floorboards from below as your father grimaces.

The work is never done for you two.

“Don’t look at me like that. It was worse when he first came here.”

“Don’t doubt it,” he mumbles, brushing lint off your shirt before he notices you’re donning neon orange. “Didn’t do laundry, princess?”

“Pollux and I haven’t gone back to our cabin since... I can wake him up if you—”

Mr. D shakes his head and goes to toss his body onto the couch against the window, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Dad? Do you think Chris is a bad person?”

A beat passes and you think he may have fallen asleep, but then his voice sounds like gravel scraping up his throat.

“I don’t think anyone can be bad, kid. I think it is more often that people get lost. What Rodriguez needs is someone to take hold of him gently, and hand his life back to him—you…Clarisse… that’s what we’re giving him.”

Now you’re silent, staring at the dust on his name placard at the edge of the desk.

“Do you think otherwise?”

He calls your name again, and you look up like you’re about to lie to him but don’t have the energy to.

“Princess, do you think you’re a bad person?”

He stands up and walks around to your side of the desk, sitting on the edge so you have to look at him.

“I killed someone. During the battle. Didn’t even think twice about it, slashed his neck as soon as Castor went down and…” you sniff. “I kill monsters, Dad, not children. How does that make me any different?”

The last time blood was on your hands like this it was Luke’s in the Garden of Hesperides. All these years later you ended up being right— the only person you vowed to get bloody for is Luke Castellan, and now in a twisted turn of fate, you’ve bloodied your hands because of him.

“Because you did it for your brother. There are no other explanations needed.”

He sees the exhaustion in your eyes, the drop in your shoulders, but your dad also sees the strength in your bones that spans generations and he knows you and Pollux are strong because you are both his.

“Humans believe in life everlasting—glory, as some call it, but they’re too focused on achieving it on earth instead of enjoying what life has to offer,” he scoffs, “Everyone has the guts to die, but no one has the guts to truly live. How sad.”

“His name was Rowan. Son of Hecate. I taught him how to whistle the summer I left. This is all my fault, Dad,” you say shakily as he comes near and pulls you into his side. He shushes you but you relent.

“Luke’s killing all these people to fulfill a promise he made for me. I’m just fucking disgusted with myself for being the cause of it all. What good life can I deserve when wherever I go I leave a trail of blood?”

Love and addiction must be so alike; to know that to be sober you can’t indulge in the vice ever again—not only does it hurt you, but others around you. But through the years you’ve always kept the taste of his name in your mouth, the feeling of his skin under your fingertips, and the knowledge of why he’s destroying the world so he can make you a better one. Insanity stems from fighting for so long that you embrace the pain; feeling something so intensely that when it consumes you you’re able to walk out the other side and wear it as armor.

Not everyone is hardwired to persevere.

There are moments like a night like these where it would be easy to give up. Instead, you pour two glasses of whiskey you’ve conjured and hand one to your dad. You both sip on your drinks slowly, embracing the crawling feeling of the burn.

“Liquor is one way out and death is another,” your dad sighs blissfully. He almost looks rejuvenated by the alcohol he knows he’ll hear about from Zeus later, but perhaps the death of his son is a good enough pardon.

“For some of us, we don’t have to think about the answer.”

Mr. D grabs a pen off the desk and starts signing papers to do something with his hands, and then you speak again, “I think I’d rather die for people I love,” and your dad’s attention whips to your blank face staring at the moon outside the window. “Instead of killing for them. I’ve never been a good soldier, Dad.”

Mr. D looks at you thoughtfully and wonders where all the time has gone that you sit there in front of him with more knowledge than him at your mortal age before saying, “You’re my daughter. You’re a fighter. Death is for chumps anyway.”

He lifts you by the arm to try to usher you up the stairs but you stay in his office chair swatting his hands away.

“Got work to do, you and I. Not getting rid of me until it’s done.”

“When are you going home?” he asks, pulling up a chair next to yours.

“I am home.”

You don’t look up from the papers you were filing, stubbornness leaking through your voice.

“If there is a war coming, I want to be home as much as I can. I’m finishing my last semester and I’ll be here before and after classes. You can’t stop me, dad.”

And he knows that too.

There is no such thing as leaving Camp Half-Blood for you.

Never for too long. Your love for it is scattered everywhere campers can see.

—

In all these years, you never believed I loved you. And I did. I did so much. I did love you. I even loved your hate and your hardness. - Tennessee Williams

#luke castellan x reader #trouble!verse #made by ma1dita ♥︎#pjo x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan angst

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reallyromealone · 1 year ago

Note

Hear me out. Bonten Mikey x omega male reader

A few years after mikey and m/n broke up, mikey discovered that m/n has a 6 year old daughter who looks like a copy of mikey, and mike like connects rhe timeline and realizes m/n was pregnant at the time of their break up but m/n never told him bc he didnt want his kid to be involved in the mafia/gang shit

-🐰 (late birthday gift for me 🥹?)

It's A VERY LATE FIC I'M SO SORRY

🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐

(Name) smiled as he put his little pups hair in pigtails, her bangs/fringe pinned back with a cute bubble hair band, today they were visiting Draken and Inui and little (daughters name) wanted to dress her best for her favorite uncles--- don't tell the others.

(Daughters name) was (name)s world, the sweetest little pup in the world who was absolutely precious.

Though sometimes it hurt to look at her, she was literally a spitting image of her father-- (name) never realized how feminine Mikey looked till his pup came into the world, but he loved her so much. She was the kindest and most selfless little thing ever. It wasn't the easiest at times but with the support of his friends he managed. Just starting first grade, (name) was thankful to work at the bike shop and being able to collect his little sunshine.

"Don't forget the cookies papa!" (Daughters name) said excitedly as left for their visit, without a care in the world.

Many would ask "where's the sire" upon learning (name) was a single parent, the question annoying and invasive but (name) always lied and made up an excuse about the father being overseas and such.

He refused to let anyone know about the actual reason, that being (daughters name)a father was the most dangerous man in Tokyo, (name) was thankful as much as he was hurt that Mikey dumped him.

He refused to let anyone go through what he did with Kanto Manji Gang.

With what Mikey was quickly becoming.

It was sheer /fucking/ chance that Mikey was waiting for the light to change in his limo as (name) stood at the cross walk holding hands with--

Holy s h i t.

"...boss are you seeing what we're seeing" Kakucho and Sanzu stared in Shellshock as they looked at a tiny Mikey with pigtails and a little dress, all of them doing the mental math and coming to a quick realization that holy fuck (name) was pregnant.

He was pregnant that day, oh my god that's what he wanted to talk to Mikey about!

"What are your thoughts on kids?" (Name) asked awkardly as they ate dinner, Mikey surpisingly home for once to do so "annoying, would get in the way" the blond said simply "a liability"

(Name) forced himself not to place his hand on his stomach, anxiety riddling his body "I see..."

"Why?"

"Just curious"

Mikey was always so disinterested in (name) these days, (name) always suspected that he was cheating, never saying anything though.

(Name) wanted to just scream.

Mikey remembered that night.

It was the night Mikey dumped him, a rash decision on his end and during one of his dark impulse moments.

He immediately regretted it after, the pained look on (name)s face and they hadn't seen each other since.

(Name) had many expectations of life, but seeing his ex sitting on his couch after he put his pup to bed, noticing the other Bonten men guarding the apartment "the fuck are you doing here" Mikey expected (name)a hostility and glanced up "that's my kid"

"What do you want Mikey" (name) wasn't having any conversation, he wanted to know what the hell he was doing here "I want to meet my kid"

"And get involved in your bullshit? Absolutely not! "Babies are a liability" remember that Mikey?" He hissed out and Mikey sighed, knowing this wasn't going to be easy "I deserve to meet her"

"You lost that chance when you broke up with me, I'm not letting my daughter deal with your shit, Mikey you're /dangerous/! She's six and I don't want her to ever go through what I went through!"

"I can keep you both safe!"

"YOU COULDN'T EVEN KEEP ME SAFE!" (name) was crying at this point, so angry at his once beloveds audacity"I kept her away for a reason Mikey, you are dangerous! She gets to play with her friends and have sleep overs! Has sleep overs at the friends you left behind! She gets to have a childhood that isn't currupted!"

"Why can't you let her have that?" (Name)s voice was broken and his body shaking, he would sacrifice everything for his daughter and at this moment he would stand his ground.

Bonten would poison her.

"Can...can I just please /know/ my daughter"

(Name) was tired, he was tired of it all "if you can /promise/ me that nothing will happen to her, I will let you meet her but one slip up Sano and I will never let you see her again"

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x male reader #male reader #bonten x reader #omegaverse #omega male reader #mikey tokyo revengers #anime x male reader #anime x reader #angst

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kyber-crystal · 1 year ago

Text

scarlet ibis (songbird) || anakin skywalker

summary: they say the purest love takes the longest time, and your story is nothing short of that. there’s fragility within beauty and to him, you’re a mosaic of stained glass (alt title: 5 times you call anakin skywalker by his last name, and 1 time you finally call him by his first.)

words: ~3.2k

warnings: angst, mild violence, mentions of blood + death (but no major character death dw), two oblivious idiots in love

a/n: 2nd place fic from my mini poll! not my best work LOL, but i think this is one of my favorite fics i've written (so far). i've had this in drafts for about a year or so as well...

one

It was safe to say that even a nanosecond of interacting with Anakin Skywalker made your blood boil.

He knew just how to push all your buttons and you hated it. How could one person exist for seemingly one purpose only—to piss you off—you didn’t understand it and weren’t sure if you ever would. “Loyal Jedi” my ass.

If you were the first person to speak up during meetings, he was also the first to counter your points and shoot you down. If you were late to meals in the mess hall, he took the last roll of bread, so you’d have to wait an extra half hour for more to come out. If you were dueling together, he would always point out every microscopic flaw in your technique. You were sure that your head would explode at any moment by his existence alone.

This is so ridiculous—you’re ridiculous.

“You know I can hear you, right?” Anakin glanced at you in his peripheral vision. “Don’t be mad because my plan worked, and yours didn’t. There’s this thing called accepting defeat.”

“Just because I don’t do things the way you do doesn’t mean they’re wrong.”

“They’re not wrong, but they’re not safe. You can’t declare safety compromisation a success. There’s a clear difference between the two.”

You scoffed. “Since when did you, out of all people, account for safety?”

“I should be asking you the same thing.”

“You’re not answering my question.”

“And you’re not answering mine, either.” He reaches behind his ear and turns his comms on. “Now are we going to head home or what?”

“Aye aye, General,” you responded sarcastically, rolling your eyes. “Let’s embark on the journey of a lifetime.”

Awkward silence pierces the air like a dozen tiny needles, but you’ll take it over arguing with a wall any day. You knew what you were fighting for and why. You were confident in your actions and believed you always stood on the right side.

Except, he didn’t.

It was a quick two day recon and you got the job done in half the allotted time. In and out faster than you could blink. Of course, Anakin would find fault in that one way or another…and he did. You got caught as you were escaping…dragging the mission duration out by an extra day.

Granted, you were only delayed by a few hours, but it was enough to upset him. You couldn’t even feel the ropes digging into your wrists after hour two, anyway. But from the moment he broke in and saw the first speck of blood on you, a look of fury flashed across his eyes. I’d be surprised if he had even half a heart under all that thick skin, you grumbled to yourself. He’ll slice at anything that moves.

“You know—” Anakin’s voice breaks through the tension-filled air. He wants to say something else, but the words get stuck in the back of his throat and his tongue goes numb.

“I don’t care.” You pick at your scabbing wounds, not caring that they’re starting to sting and peel all over again. Before he can catch you doing so, you tug your sleeves over them and grit your teeth. “We got the job done, Skywalker, that’s all that matters.”

two

Maybe it was time to stop trying to commit mass murder on the punching bags. They weren’t going to do anything except break after two minutes of merciless attacks.

Hopefully…you wouldn’t get in trouble for the glass vase that happened to get in your path. Nobody ever bothered to wander to the west wing of the Temple often enough to notice, anyway.

As you clenched and unclenched your fists, the cracks in your knuckles slowly started to stretch out like thin, red spiderwebs. The dots of brilliant ruby seemed to glitter among the pristine flooring—almost like they were meant to be there from the start.

With every shard you threw away, the cracks and fury dug themselves further into your skin, threatening to explode.

You didn’t even need to look up afterward to know his scalding gaze was on you again.

“Are you trying to get an infection?”

“Fuck off.”

He ignored your biting reply and kneeled down to clean up the mess. Once he was done, he stood back up and grabbed you by the wrist, leading you down the hall to his quarters.

As soon as he sat you down at the edge of his bed, you shot him a death glare. “What in Force’s name is your problem?”

“My problem,” Anakin replied, “is that you’re about to bleed all over the place. Let me help.”

“I don’t need fixing, Skywalker,” you snapped. “It’s just a cut.”

Anakin raised a brow at you, then looked down at your hands. “Too bad, I think you do. Broken glass will buryinto places you don’t expect.”

“Then you’re severely underestimating what I’m capable of. So let me go,” you snapped, jerking your wrist out of his grip. You unfortunately did this too fast, and hissed in pain as a result. “I’m fine.”

Sighing, the young Jedi reaches for the bacta pads next to him and works carefully to patch you up. He pretends not to notice the tears welling up in the corners of your eyes. Or the way you pick at the skin by your thumb, or the way your left foot taps the floor in a nervous rhythm. He pretends not to notice everything you do, but you’re everywhere. It frustrates him because he can’t escape.

“Why do I have a feeling that exterminating the centuries-old vase of magic and splendor wasn’t in your original plan?”

“I was,” your voice wavers, fingers twitching. He notices this, too. “Leave me be.”

Shadows of the late afternoon light dance across the bridge of your nose, and he lets himself stare for a bit longer than normal. And…being who you two are, neither of you realize the fact.

“You can go now, if you want,” he finally says after the sun begins descending into the horizon. “But make sure not to overexert yourself again.”

You don’t move. You stay there; quietly sitting in the middle of his room with glistening cheeks. Anakin doesn’t bother asking you to leave a second time.

A fallen angel trapped in an endless prison; a halo and fractured wings that rendered her unable to fly. And yet, amidst all that death and despair, nothing could mar her beauty.

He feels those same little spiderwebs running through his palms, and he feels them shorten. Just a little bit.

three

The halls of the Temple were eerily quiet early in the morning. You would expect more Jedi to be up before the sun rose, but today, all activity had seemed to stop. Gathering the ends of your cloak into your arms, you made a careful climb up onto the rooftops to watch the sunrise.

It seemed like you weren’t the only one who had this in mind, though.

“The hell are you doing at this hour?”

“I could ask you the same exact thing,” Anakin replied as he stood up and turned around to face you. “You’re going to fall.”

“I’m fine, don’t—” You let out a small squeak as you lose your footing and slip. Luckily, though, he catches you in time by wrapping an arm around your waist and holding on tight. Fire shoots through your veins at the feeling of him pressed up against you. “Let go of me, Skywalker!”

Once he leads you to where you can get more stable footing, he lets you go. But even then, there’s a hand that hovers over the small of your back.

Brilliant bursts of sunlight stream over the horizon and wash over the world in pale red and pink. It stops you from saying something snarky to Anakin because you’re speechless at the breathtaking sight above.

“I have…something for you,” he clears his throat. “—And don’t hit me. I’m not trying to poison you.”

“Okay…?”

He reaches into his cloak pocket and pulls out what appears to be jewelry of some kind.

“How many innocent beings did you kill to get this? Please don’t tell me it was smuggled. Or that you robbed someone for it. I can’t keep something like that.”

“Y/N.”

“What?”

“Do you…like it?”

You paused and took one good look at the necklace in his hand. It had to be the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen in all twenty years of living, and even that was an understatement. A teardrop-shaped, deep vermillion stone encased by tiny, glittering jewels—it was as if he had captured the stormclouds himself. It was perfect—too perfect, almost.

Your voice came out in a whisper. “It’s so pretty.”

He takes a careful step to stand behind you in response. His fingers brush against your neck as he puts the necklace on, and fireworks explode behind your eyes.

Without another word, you turn towards him and rest your chin on his shoulder. He pulls you closer, and your heart feels a little fuller than before.

four

The warzone was an ugly place.

If hell was a real thing, this had to be it. The sky is bleeding red and each burst of lightning splits it further apart, the smell of death swirling around with the debris. Battle droids push forward in a stampede and you try your best to ignore the sickening crunch of bone beneath their metal feet. You squeeze your eyes shut as you tighten your hold around your lightsaber and pray to every god out there in the universe because war was cruel and mean and you just wanted to go home and sleep forever because anything, absolutely anything, was better than the suffering you were having to endure now.

When the shot originally meant for Anakin hits you in the side, you’re unable to fully comprehend the pain because your brain won’t let you. You force yourself to keep going. Pain was temporary…you’d deal with the aftermath later. You could afford to.

What feels like hours passes by and the gunfire doesn’t stop. The incessant ringing in your ears is something you’ve forced yourself to grow accustomed to.

“Y/N!” Anakin’s voice manages to cut through the howling winds. “You need to—”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence before a grenade detonates near you and throws you against the walls. A searing pain shoots through your body at the impact and the world tilts on its axis. Scarlet seeps into your tear-stained vision and suddenly, the whole world is drenched in blood.

This was it…

If you were going to die now, it would be as far from pretty as you could possibly get.

It’s another slow few minutes before he finally finds you slumped against the stone. Somehow, you manage to shoot him a small smile before wincing. “Took you long enough to get here.”

“You…”

“Oh, wow, I’ve been shot,” you let out a dry laugh, pressing a hand over your wound. The color immediately drained from his face as he saw blood seeping through your fingers. “That’s a whole lot of red.”

He crouches down next to you to assess your state, pressing the commlink in his ear as he does so. “Why is it that you’re always getting hurt?”

“My middle name is Trouble, that’s why.” You cough, and more red drips down your lips. “Trouble follows me around wherever I go.”

“It’s not fair,” Anakin mumbled under his breath, applying pressure to your torso as you wince again. “I’m supposed to be jumping in front of bullets for you and getting close to being blown up, not the other way around.”

“I decided that your massive ego needed a little break so I took the workload for you,” you snarked. “Happy now, Skywalker?”

For the first time ever, he doesn’t bite back with an equally sarcastic response. You don’t question it. “No. I’m not.”

The returning journey's dead silent, save for your labored breathing due to your cracked ribs. You try to sit up, but he places a firm hand on your shoulder to keep you from moving.

“I told you I’m fine—”

“You need to rest,” he exhales, the distress and tiredness evident in his eyes. “Please.”

“Okay…”

Wordlessly, Anakin reaches over to cup his hands over yours and and brings them to his lips. A pleasant sense of warmth overtakes you and you can almost pretend like the ship’s heater isn't broken and you’re melting, little by little. And if you look closer, you can see clusters of galaxies and shooting stars behind his steel blue eyes. The thought alone comforts you and starts to lull you to sleep.

His eyes shift to the necklace; the gemstone sits still against your sternum as your chest rises and falls. Beauty among chaos. He wonders every day how such stark differences can coexist in a peaceful manner.

“For what it’s worth,” he murmurs long after you’ve drifted off, “I never really hated you.”

five

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You placed your hands on your hips as you observed the pitiful scene before you. The Jedi Order could host extravagant events and use expensive artillery and clones, but wouldn’t account for comfortable sleeping accommodations. Making a mental note to politely complain to Master Windu, you let out a long sigh.

“If I stretch out, I’ll fall off,” Anakin pointed out as he too stared at the small queen bed (you were sure it was a twin, though).

“I’d fall off, too.”

“You know what…I’ll take the floor. I don’t want to hear you complaining about back pain in the morning.”

He was about to take his pillow and toss it to the floor before you grabbed his wrist. “Are you nuts? I can’t let you do that.”

“Then what do you want me to do?”

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t know, share the bed without kicking me in the middle of the night?”

Both of you stopped and stared at each other at this.

“The audacity you have to say that when you’re the kicker…” Anakin began.

“I’m using the bathroom first.” You pushed past him to go wash up. “Don’t be a bed hog, Skywalker.”

Minutes later, you’re both settled in under the covers and have fallen into a comfortable silence. The only things you can hear are the crickets chirping outside and Anakin’s steady breathing. If you ignored the fact that you were on a mission and crammed into an incredibly tiny motel room, you could imagine that this was a peaceful weekend getaway to some tropical planet.

You’re the first one to break the silence and speak up. “Do you wonder when the war will end? Or if it’ll end at all?”

“All the time.” He rolls over on his side to face you. “And what I’d do afterwards.”

“Where would you go?”

Anakin hums for a moment before responding. “I don’t know. You?”

“I’d go back to Naboo. To the lakes, where the water is so clear you can see your future, and the roses are redder than your face under the summer sun. Padme would take me there all the time when we were younger.”

“I think I’d follow you, then.”

“But there’s sand, and lots of it,” you laughed. “Are you sure?”

“I’d be willing to bear its coarse, rough, and irritating qualities for you. Only once, though. I have my limits.”

Your heart warms at the mini confession. “I wish we could just end everything now. Call off the troops, sign a few treaties or something…end the war. I’m tired of the violence and bloodshed. I know everyone else is too.”

“I know.”

Anakin’s hand finds its way into yours, and the tension in your shoulders slowly unravels as your fingers lace with his.

And all the cracked and bleeding crevices on your skin start healing the longer you lean into his touch. It’s like he has a needle and spool of thread in hand, and he’s slowly but surely stitching you back together.

plus one

The giant metropolis of Coruscant had gone quiet under blankets of snow—it was a sight unlike any other. You hadn’t seen a speck of snow hit since you stepped foot onto the Jedi Temple as a child.

You stood alone in the hangar bay with bated breath and reddened, frostbitten fingers. Like you’d dipped them in blood before letting them dry for a bit.. He had to be here any minute now; you didn’t want him to return and not have anyone to welcome him back. So despite the subzero temperatures and barely-healing knuckles, you remained in place.

When his ship touches down and he hops out with a wide smile, you can feel a giant weight being lifted off your chest. He jogs toward you and brings you in for a crushing embrace, and for once, you finally feel at home.

“It’s freezing. What are you doing here?” He’s sweating, even though he looks like he should be cold. “You should’ve headed inside.”

“I waited for you, what else would I be doing?”

Anakin grins again and hugs you even tighter. “I missed you. More than anything.”

Your heart suddenly starts to ache at his admission and that’s when the realization kicks in. “I thought I lost you, Anakin. You could’ve died. I couldn’t sleep for three days after I lost your signal. And yet you’re standing here acting like it’s no big deal because at least you’re alive and in one piece.”

“Y/N…”

A chill runs down your spine and you know in that moment that it has nothing to do with the weather. You knew this wasn’t right; you weren’t supposed to be doing this, but it felt more natural than anything you’d ever done.

That’s when you find an Anakin-shaped shard of glass wedged deep in your heart and you don’t know how it found its way there, but you don’t even bother pulling it out. Glass splinters are supposed to be these jagged, disfigured things, but this one is beautiful and even shines amongst the rubble. It’ll bury its way into places you don’t expect. With the way he fits against your body, you can’t help but feel like he was meant to fill the gaping hole in your heart. So wholly, so perfectly without a single scratch or flaw.

You look up at him and feel your breath get caught in your throat. Since when did he make you so nervous?

He’s even closer now and so are you, so you press your mouth to his as if doing so would save you from falling apart. Your brain short-circuits, and as you sink into the sudden burst of warmth you realize you don’t want this to end.

“Took you long enough,” he mumbles against your skin as you pull apart. “I was starting to wonder when…”

“Shut up. Don’t ruin the moment,” you muttered before bringing your hand to his cheek and kissing him a second time. He doesn’t object and tightens his hold around you, and a fire spreads through you from head to toe.

“I love you,” Anakin says after a while. “Even though you like sand, and I don’t.”

“I knew that already,” you joked with a smile and close your eyes, taking in a deep breath. “You’re not exactly the most subtle person ever.”

“Neither are you,” he chuckles.

“But I love you too.”

tags, including people who may be interested: @arkofblake @dameronology @fl0ating @voguesir @lady-elena-adeline @aliciaasky @katelynnwrites @freeshavocadoooo @buckysbeloved @kelieah @kaleidoscope1967eyes @lam-ila @unstablecaffeinatedmind @elenavampire21 @joyfullyswimmingface

add yourself to the general taglist/top gun specific taglist !

#anakin skywalker x reader #star wars fic #star wars imagine #anakin skywalker x y/n #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker fluff #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin x reader #anakin x you #star wars fanfiction #anakin skywalker fic

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xhoneygirlxx · 1 year ago

Text

Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince

Steve Harrington x Reader

summary: The cheerleading and boy's basketball coaches are the talk of Hawkins High. When they can't seem to put two and two together, the students have to take matter into their own hands to get the pair together.

warnings: fluff. Steve and reader are both in their 20s. gender/body size/ethnicity are not discussed (the name of the fic was simply picked based off of one line). a little cameo from our favorite metal head. a bit sappy but who cares. idiots in love. we stan the students in this fic, they were doin god's work frfr. also modern au! spelling errors/shitty writing, i'm sick so forgive me for any mistakes lmao.

*if i miss anything please let me know*

a/n: As we all know, today would have been the last day of Honey's birthday bash. That was the plan my friends but bc of party festivities, hangovers, and now a bad cold, we are now behind on schedule. Thank you all for hanging in there with me :) I hope you all enjoy this, love you bunches!

The whole school is rolling fake dice.

Whispers traveled through the echo chamber hallways, bets being placed with the shaking of hands, and gossip being passed back and forth in the lunchroom like a breadbasket at dinner. All anyone could talk about was the two coaches that were blind to their own attraction to one another.

Unbeknownst to you and Steve, you guys were in the middle of a storm of circulating rumors since the beginning of the season. From the moment you two met all hell broke loose, a wildfire spreading through the classrooms of the school.

Everyone could see how much you liked each other, it was so clear like the scoreboard that shined brightly in the gym, except for you. The perfect love story, the cheerleader and jock, it was bound to happen sooner or later.

It started as a game between the cheerleaders and the basketball players, betting on who would break first and finally make it official. Soon it became a game amongst the rest of the student body, all of them biting at their nails and crossing their fingers in the hope that one of you would crack.

To everyone's disappointment, neither of you ever did. It was exhausting watching the two of you dance around your clear feelings for one another. The two of you tried to play it cool, act like any of the accusations were just that, accusations. But it was there, bright as day, on display for the whole world to see.

It was in the way your eyes would find each other's in a crowded room, feather light touches that would linger for way too long, shy smiles and rosy cheeks. The way you talked to one another was anything but two people who worked together. It was teasing, flirty, and breathless any time you talked.

There was a big wager for this whole thing, which team would win the biggest check and which one would have to fork over all the money. The cheerleaders and half of the school had their money on Steve, his reputation as a ladies man helping them with their decision. The basketball team and the other half of the school bet on you, knowing you were more outspoken then he is.

Now it's been months since the bets were placed but neither of you finally crossed over the line from friends to lovers. So the cheerleaders did what they do best, they rallied everyone on their side, made a plan that would guarantee their win.

Winter formal was only a week away, both of you were sure to chaperone without a date. So the cheerleaders got to work, making sure their plan would be executed flawlessly.

Phase #1: Plant the seeds

Two loud knocks against the heavy wood door of Steve's office bring him out of his computer screen. Shouting a come in, he's met with the sight of the student council president, Lauren McPhee who holds a white paper.

"Sorry to bother you but I need this form filled out for the dance next week!" She's too chipper for a Monday morning, smiling brightly like the sun that hangs in the cold December sky.

"Oh yeah, let me just get a pen." Wheeling back on his desk chair, Steve begins to pat his shirt while looking around at his cluttered desk for the writing instrument.

Once he snatches the ballpoint pen from under the stack of papers, Steve grabs the flimsy sheet from Lauren's hand and scribbles down his signature on every empty line.

"Alrighty, there you go." With a tight lipped smile, he hands it back to the nice girl.

Steve watches as her eyes flit over the paper, flipping it front to back to make sure everything is filled out properly. When her features twist in confusion he can't help but wonder why.

"Everything look good?" He questions and she shakes her head while still reading over the curled letters of his name.

"Y-yeah, it's just," pulling her lip between her teeth, Lauren begins to chew on it anxiously, "the section for your date has been left blank. Excuse me if I'm crossing a line here, coach, but you're not bringing a date?"

Her voice is sympathetic, lips pulled into a deep from and her eyes sparkling with pity as she looks at the older man. Steve isn't sure why she seems so upset about him going alone or why it would be a problem, but when she looks at him like a dog that's been kicked he feels the need to answer.

"Oh, well I don't really have anyone to take. Plus it's more important for me to be paying attention to the punch bowl to make sure no asshole- I mean jerk, spikes it." With a forced laugh, he waits to see if his answer is enough to suffice the girl's curiosity.

"O-oh that makes sense I guess, I just though maybe you and the cheerleading coach would go together. You know cause they're also going alone and from what they told me, they never been to their winter formal before." Shrugging, the girl moves her sights from him back to the paper.

"They told you that?" Steve's answer is met with a hesitant nod from the girl. "I-I didn't know that." He breathes.

"At least they'll finally be able to go, right?" Again she shrugs, pulling a folder from her bag to put the paper away.

"Wait!" It comes out louder than he expected, cringing slightly at his volume. "Can I hold onto that and then had it in later?"

"Sure! I'll be back on Wednesday." A sunny smile shines at him, the white paper being passed back to him. "See you then, coach."

Waving him goodbye, Lauren shuts the door behind her where the cheerleaders wait for her. With a singular thumbs up, they begin to jump with joy only for a moment before moving on to phase two.

Phase #2: Destroy the band room

Now destruction of school property was not something any student was willing to get written up for, but with the help of an adult maybe they wouldn't have to.

Mr. Munson was the band instructor and drama teacher, as well as Steve Harrington's right hand man. Before he was an educator, Eddie Munson menaced these halls for many years. Before getting his act together and after he quit selling weed to the students in the woods, he worked as an apprentice for a while, following a plumber around for months while he went to college for education.

"Mr. Munson come on, don't you want to see your bestie finally get a happy ending?" Karissa Thomas batted her eyelashes at him as she begged for his help.

"I don't know guys, I could get into a lot of trouble." Rubbing his forehead, Eddie sighs as he weighs out his options in his head.

"Think of it this way, you can finally give principle Higgins the finger. At least metaphorically." Anthony Whitmer adds.

"Plus, we'll give you some of the profits." Mark, another band kid pleads from the group.

Eddie leans against his desk wide eyed, smirking slightly at his band students. Who knew they would be so devious.

"Fuck it, I'm in." The group before him shout in victory while Eddie laughs devilishly. Somethings never changes, he thinks.

So this morning when he arrived at school, Eddie made sure that no one was around when he began fucking with the pipes. After about twenty minutes and sore upper arms, he finally succeeds by springing a leak.

When he reported the leak to principle Higgins, he was met with a side eye before getting the approval of the gym slot after school, which meant you and your team would be forced to share with Harrington and his team until it got fixed.

Phase #3: Offer planning services to coach Harrington

Now to bring this whole plan together, cheer captains Dan Morrison and Amber Hall needed to be in the same place at the same time as Steve Harrington. The only problem was his office and where he usually occupied the most was the east wing of the school. The east wing was the closest to his office and it was the least traveled hallways out of the whole school.

That meant they needed to make it look like they were that way for a reason. Luckily for them, the art room was also in the east wing, so they would make it look like they were grabbing poster boards for last minute winter formal posters.

Lunch time was the best time to put this into motion, so the minute the 11:50 bell rang, Dan and Amber sprinted to the east wing in the hopes they would catch him.

After rummaging around for glitter, markers, and poster boards, the two waited at the door, peaking over the frame in the hopes to catch the older man. When the door of his office opened, the two seniors began to walk out of the room talking about random things to not make it look so obvious.

In the hopes of sparking a conversation with him, Amber dropped the container of markers causing colorful pens to fall all over the hard floor.

"Amber, I told you not to drop them!" Dan laughs, putting the white posters to the floor in order to pick up the rolling markers.

"You made me laugh!" The girl argues back, laughing loudly as she crouches to help.

"I didn't even do anything." He replies, making the girl laugh even harder at his comment.

The echo of Steve's heavy footsteps could be heard by both teenagers, but they ignore it so he wouldn't catch on.

"You guys cool?" Steve asks, crouching down to help pick up what fell.

"H-hi coach," Amber greets, catching her breath from her heavy laughter, "We're okay, Dan just made me drop these."

The boy in question huffs and rolls his eyes playfully, continuing his actions of gathering the rest of what's on the floor.

"So what are you guys doing with all this, anyway?" Steve asks, pushing off on his knees to stand.

"Oh, just last minute posters for the dance." Dan says nonchalantly as he gathers his pile of supplies.

"You're going, right?" The young girl asks and Steve responds with a small sigh, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Yeah I'll be there." Nodding his head, the man places his hands on his hips looking at the two kids in front of him.

"That's fun! Are you bringing a date?" Amber wiggles her eyebrows.

Shoving her playfully, Dan looks at her with a gasp. "Oh my gosh, Amber you can't just ask that. Sorry, coach." Doing his best to look sympathetic, Dan offers his best smile to the older man.

"It's okay, Dan," Steve places a hand out, looking at the brown haired boy, "Actually, I was wondering if you guys could help me with that."

"Sure!" The cheerleaders agree in unison.

"Let's talk about this in my office." Pointing a thumb to the end of the hall, spinning of the ball of his foot to lead the way.

Steve defiantly doesn't see how bright both of the teen's smiles are from where they walk behind him and he surely doesn't see them giving each other a high five.

Phase #4: Get you to go to the parking lot before practice

This phase was probably the hardest of them all. You were very keen on punctuality, always the first to be at the building to make sure everything was set up. Now that you'd be sharing the gym with the basketball team, you were more than likely to be there a whole lot earlier than usual.

Now this is where the most important players come in, Lauren Hernandez and Simon Carter. The two freshmen were bright stars at Hawkins High, the leading members of the mathletes and very trust worthy students.

When this whole plan started it was known that they'd need someone who was convincing to divert your attention, so the two meek students volunteered without a second thought. The amount of money they'd win if coach Harrington made the first move was way more important than credibility at this point.

When they spotted you coming through the outside gym door, the two kids began to put on their show. Rushing through the two gymnasium doors, Lauren and Simon pant acting as if they ran a mile.

"C-coah, we need-" Simon bends over, bracing his hands on his knees while breathing heavily, "We need your help!"

You immediately drop your bags, sprinting over to the two youths. Worry is written all over your face, eyes immediately checking for any visible injuries on them.

"I-is everything okay? What's wrong? Are you hurt?" Placing a hand on your chest, you wait for them to catch their breath.

"There's a fight outside. Max Newman and Devon Lewis are fighting in the parking lot." Lauren rushes out, eyes wide and glassy under the gym lights.

You're more than shocked at the news, the two boys have been great friends the whole time you've coached them. In a flash, you urge both kids to get coach Harrington from his office while you break up the fight.

What you don't know is neither Simon or Lauren have to get him, waiting until the slam of the heavy gym door both run after you to make sure they don't miss a single moment.

Rushing through the entrance doors, the cold winter chill instantly hits you but you don't pay too much attention to it when there isn't a fight happening.

When you walk outside, you see your team of cheerleaders lined up on both sides of the steps, a red rose in each hand. As you walk, they hand them to you, bright smiles on each of their faces when they do.

You can't speak with the amount of confusion that runs through your brain. Even though you want to ask them what all of this is about, you just let your feet carry you out into the parking lot.

You jump slightly when you hear Wildest Dreams being play, the only difference is the band kids stand off to the side with their instruments. Giggling slightly, you imagine Eddie Munson teaching his kids a Taylor Swift song but Bridgerton style.

With a bundle of roses in hand, you continue out into the snow covered parking lot. Under the street lights you see him standing with his hands in his pockets. Behind him stands some of the drama kids, holding big white posters. Taking a moment to read the blue and silver lettering, you gasp when it finally hits you.

F O R M A L ?

Tears prick your eyes and not just because of the cold winter wind. The thought and dedication that went into this must've taken so much (more than both of you even realize), you're heart beaming with the thought of Steve putting this together.

"So what do you say, coach? Will you do me the honors of being my date to the dance?" Steve's cheeks are red and his teeth glimmer under the florescent lights.

You can't help but let more tears fall, all of the pining and wishing finally coming true under the darken sky, right where the two of you first met. It feels too good too be true, a real life fairytale happening in real time.

"Of course I will." It comes out loud enough for only him to hear, the two of you looking at each other in adoration.

In a split moment, Steve's strong hands pull you in and wrap you in the tightest hug, something you dreamt of all this time. Even in the cold temperatures, his body heat, his touch holds the heat of a thousand suns.

The roaring cheer of all of those around you, besides the band who continue to play, fills the open air. You and Steve are so wrapped up in each other you don't even notice the flash of the camera, Andrew Johnson of the yearbook committee getting multiple shots of the whole thing.

Pulling back enough to look at one another, you smile brightly up at him. Steve looks so pretty like this, cherry nose, snow flurries collecting in his eyelashes and hair, and a smile so sweet it could rot your teeth.

"I can't believe you did all of this." You say with a laugh, shaking your head in amazement.

Chuckling slightly, he looks down bashfully at you. "Yeah well, I had some help." The two of your look all around the parking lot where multiple students stand, all from different clubs, groups, and social brackets beam and cheer for the two of you.

The two of you turn back to one another, gooey looks on both of your faces and love filling your eyes. "Who would've thought." You say breathlessly and he agrees.

"Can I kiss you?" It's breathless and hopeful when Steve says it, and you're answer is just as breathless.

Connecting his lips to yours felt like two puzzle pieces fitting together, it's feels like home, and it feels right. Like a snow globe, you and Steve are frozen for just a moment under the December snow.

I hope you all enjoy! Love you all <3

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington blurb #honey's birthday bash #honey's holiday celebrations

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kalegreeneyes · 5 months ago

Note

LOVING burning and buried, but i broke my rule of only reading completed fics so i’m itching for some more wolf star fics to read in between updates. do you have any recs for fics? i feel like i can trust your opinion given how good your work is!

the answer is yes, but the answer is also that i read a LOT of wips, and some of my recs will be bigger fics you may have already read, or have jegulus as another main ship which idk if you're into or not but here!!

completed:

lose yourself by daiver - holy SHIT this fic was so good. remus gets brainwashed into being a death eater and it is sooooo so so angsty and wonderful. it had so many moments that had my heart RACING

the horcrux hunt by lostmy_keys - this is one of my favorite fics of all time. regulus (reluctantly) teams up with remus to hunt horcruxes. it is regulus centric but also remus, MOSTLY platonic moonwater (which if u like burning and buried i assume u like) but they are quite flirty....which may not be your cup of tea, but as someone who has had a flirty close platonic friendship or two i LOVED. slowburn ANGSTY wolfstar. honestly, i might reread this one now that i've been talking about it. so fucking good.

the cadence of part time poets by motswolo- if you haven't read this, you should. its amazing. if you like slow burn wolfstar, plenty of angst, mentally ill remus lupin, and the best oc's i have ever seen in a fic, this is for you. it is a band au, but mostly it is a boarding school preparing to be in a band au and a freshly starting out band au. extremely long, but extremely worth it.

for the love of ducks by viwrites - UGH anything vi writes i love, but this is a wolfstar sickfic that just sort of scoops up your heart into warm hands and holds it. like, don't get me wrong, it's got angst--but in a comforting way? i love this fic. so fucking much.

saccharine by moonymoment - sirius is a ghost in an apartment remus moves into. i was smiling through this whole fic except for when i was crying.

'tis the damn season by moonymoment - wolfstar fake relationship christmas fic - need i say more?

retrial by pheonixgal - remus hosts a true crime podcast and focuses on sirius's case, which is a concept i LOVE.

god i could keep going for a WHILE but I'll move on

WIPs:

godlight by Badhairred - this is my fave wip at the moment. it has SUPER regular updates. it's jegulus and wolfstar, and i LIVE for the wolfstar in this fic. their relationship, the buildup, the backstory, UGH. jegulus is fantastic too in this fic, obvi, but since you're asking abt wolfstar...i love them in this fic.

sirius black's second chance by platypus_and_pen - as you might guess from the title this is a bring back black fic in which he goes back in time to his hogwarts days after going through the veil, and he gets to reconnect with not only himself, but his friends, and also HOPEFULLY right some wrongs.

the middle path of moonlight by asheseverafter - this fic is so long, so well written, and has weekly updates. i will warn you that they are STILL quite young (i think 14/15 right now? i'm not entirely sure) as the author is taking their time with each year (Which i love) but the relationship between sirius and remus (while not explicitly shown, builds into fade to black or is vague) is quite.......advanced. i personally, as a 26 year old adult, have to skip over that stuff just for my own comfort, and there is still a fair bit of overtly sexual flirting/jokes which is kind of impossible to skip over so if that isn't something you'll be comfy with then that's totally fair, BUT. that being said, the writing in this fic is absolutely gorgeous, i get jealous every time i read it. and the moonwater friendship is AMAZING and the black brothers/black family dynamics are some of the best i've ever seen and how in love and dedicated wolfstar are the entire time is very sweet.

cupid's chokehold by lollipopluna - also mainly jegulus and also having a good amount of wolfstar, but i had to recommend because it is just. so. good. it is violent and dirty and everyone is a little rough around the edges (putting it lightly) but no one moreso than reg and remus. there hasn't been too terribly much ACTUAL wolfstar bc of the angst and the slow burn aspect but i am so so excited to see where they go, and where jegulus goes, and where platonic (not even. more like reluctant enemies former friends?? I guess??) moonwater goes. the DRAMA. the INTRIGUE. the INTENSITY. its great.

AND last but not least, on a pillow of blue bonnets by kalegreeneyes (me (: ) - sirius is famous and he's spinning out so james and pete and regulus are like GET OUT OF HERE and they ship him off to remus's ranch in montana where lily and marlene live and work too!! and barty and evan are ranch hands! and it's a slow burn! and there are horses! and cowboy remus wielding an axe! the downside is that i haven't updated it in a really long time and the new chapter is slow going ha ha ha ha ha BUT it isn't abandoned and i have the whole fic loosely planned out!!!

alright that's all for my absurdly long rec. i could have kept going but i had a moment of self awareness and had to stop, lol

ty for asking!!

#asks #fic recs #fic rec #wolfstar #wolfstar fic rec

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liveforjeongin · 6 months ago

Text

We're Okay

This one is for my baby @itzsana-kiddingmenow. I love you so so so so so much

-tickle fic, if you don't like that you can keep scrolling

lee!Hyunjin lers!Changbin and Minho

requested by: no one

warnings: ig it's angst(?, soft tickling

taglist: @itzsana-kiddingmenow @channieissocute125

➷➷➷➷➷➷➷➷➷➷➷➷➷➷➷➷➷➷➷➷➷➷➷

Hyunjin was in a huge lee mood, he wasn't gonna deny that.

Since that day Minho and Chan had wrecked him and he found out he liked being tickled, he had discovered quite a lot of things.

And also had the nerve to tell the rest of the members.

From the moment he confessed his love for being tickled, the members had teased and tickled him nonstop, he could barely breathe without getting poked or teased.

Did he hate it? Not even a bit. He loved it immensely, but of course he tried to deny it everytime he was asked that question.

But lately... It had been a different story...

They were extremely busy lately, and lots of them weren't feeling quite okay, they were just too tired.

And Hyunjin understood that, that's why he didn't even complain when the teases and tickles reduced considerably, before eventually stopping.

It'd be the worst lie of them all to say that Hyunjin didn't miss it, he missed it a ton, but his friends were first, they weren't at their best, and he understood that, that's why he remained quiet about the topic for months.

He tried, of course, to ask them to do it again... But besides some small tickle sessions, he got nothing.

And of course he was feeling sad... Yes, but he didn't want to seem like a bad friend, or that he didn't care about the guys' feelings... Cause that was very important to him.

Skz were now in the US, their schedules as busy as ever. Hyun was currently layed down on his bed in his hotel room, crying, he was sharing it with Minho, but he was out, God knows where.

He suddenly got a text from Changbin. 'Hey Hyunjinnieeee~ What you think about a Hyunibini live right now?' It said.

Hyunjin couldn't help but smile a little at the proposal. Yeah, that sounded great... And calmed his tears a little.

Binnie went to his room, and they went on live for around one hour, when they finished, they just kept talking right there until Minho arrived.

"Oh, hi, Changbinnie" greeted him, a hint of surprise on his voice to see him there.

"Hi, hyunggg~"

"What are you guys doing?" the oldest asked.

"We went on live. Just finished it" Hyun replied.

"Oh okay" simply said, not really minding much.

"I was actually gonna leave right now" Bin announced, standing up from the younger's bed.

Sensing the good mood in both of his hyungs, Hyunjin wanted to ask them for some teases and tickles... But wasn't sure of how.

So, he just said it.

"Um, hyungs...?" started, unsure of how it'll turn out.

"Yes?" the two older guys replied in unison.

"Is... Is it okay if I... If I ask you to... Maybe tease me... And tickle me...? It's... Been quite a lot since I last got teased by... Any of you seven, to be honest, plus... The tickles I've been receiving... Have been for pretty shot times, so um... I miss it. I miss it a lot and... Yeah... You guys seemed to be in a good mood so... I decided to ask... It's okay if you don't want to"

Both Changbin and Minho's hearts broke listening to Jinnie's words... He was right. They a had totally forgotten about giving his favorite ferret some tickle attention... And he was obviously affected by it.

"O-Oh... I'm... I'm sorry. Was it a bad moment? J-Just... Forget about it, it's okay-" Hyunjin's words were interrupted by Changbin, tackling him in the bed, with some tears in his eyes "I'm sorry, Hyunnie..."

Minho approached the bed, sitting next to were they were layed down, not crying, but feeling just as guilty as Binnie.

"We know we haven't given you attention lately and... We're sorry for that... We're terrible friends, and-" Hyunjin immediately cut him off.

"What?! No. Not at all. You guys are the best of friends... You all accept me like this, and are always there for me..."

"But we forgot about your favorite thing... And you feel bad about it..." Bin said.

Hyunjinnie sighed, some tears now forming on his eyes as well "That might be true... I... I miss it tons. I feel hurt, I feel sad, I cry over it, I sometimes wonder if I'm the problem, I've been wanting everything to go back as it was some months ago... Yes. All of that is true... But everything is okay... I won't die if you don't tickle me, I won't die if you don't tease me... I am okay..." Hyun started to cry, feeling emotional just by talking about his feelings, and knowing his hyungs were guilty.

"I understand that you guys are busy, and not precisely okay... And I understand that, that doesn't mean I think you don't love me anymore... You guys show me your love in many other ways... And I'm okay with all that... It's okay if you don't tease or tickle that often... I'll be okay, I just don't want any of you guys to feel guilty... Cause this is no one's fault... It's just things that sometimes happen..."

Bin was now also crying, and Lino did feel some tears forming in his eyes... Hyunjin was so precious.

And they finally understood

It wasn't their fault neither.

The two youngers cried for a while more, while Lee Know patted their heads, trying to soothe them.

When they finally calmed down, Binnie asked "Do you... Still want those tickles?"

Hyun smiled a bit shyly, and slightly nodded with his head.

Bin didn't doubt it. Using the fact that he had Hyunjin all cuddled, he slowly slid his hands under the younger's shirt, and scribbled on his belly lightly.

Jinnie, of course, felt extremely ticklish, and just giggled softly, the cutest giggles the oldests have heard from him in a long time, they couldn't help but chuckle with him.

"Awwwww, look at that~ Our Hyunjinnie is just as ticklish as ever, isn't he~?" Minho teased, starting to lightly tickle his neck, he knew he was super ticklish in there, but it got him giggling, and that's all they want.

"Oh, he sure is, aren't you, Hyunjinnie~? Aren't you just our ticklish little lee~?" Bin joined in in the teasing, their words making Hyunjin blush, who was trying his hardest to stay still, to let himself enjoy the tickles... Not like he could move anyway.

The dwaekki of course couldn't help but tickle his sides.

His absolutely death spot.

Hyun squealed, then bursted into a fit of uncontrollable giggles, they were just so mean to him, despite being soft.

"Oopsie, did I hit a sensitive spot right there~?" Changbin teased

"How much you're enjoying this from one to eight million?" Lino also teased, making sure that the touches on the younger's neck were even more tickly, and somehow he succeeded.

Jinnie couldn't help but giggle louder, not only at the most ticklish tickles on his neck, but also becuz of Minho's stupidly exaggerated number.

"E-Eeheheheheight million..." admitted, visibly shy.

The two oldests obviously grinned at that, continuing his tickle assault.

They stayed like that for quite a while, until Hyunjin got too tired and finally asked them to stop.

Hyun fell asleep almost immediately, and Lino and Binnie followed him not so long after, the three of them a cuddled in the youngest's bed.

➷➷➷➷➷➷➷➷➷➷➷➷➷➷➷➷➷➷➷➷➷➷➷

I'm truly surprised on myself for writing this

That's all I have to say

#skz tickle #kpop tickle #stray kids tickle #tickle #tickle content #ahhie's blog

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creamhoodie · 11 months ago

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Summary: You and Gojo were dating in your youth. Your relationship was an intimate secret the two of you held close. After a mission went astray, your relationship fell apart. Flash forward a few years and you're now dating Kento Nanami and are forced to navigate your feelings regarding the two of them.

Tags: fem reader, NSFW, 18+ content, angst, love triangle, flashback scenes written in italics.

A/N: This will be my first multi chapter fic I've written on here (plz comment if you'd like to be included in a tag list. ) Also pls do not make fun or point out any plot holes when it comes to explaining & introducing stuff having to do with curses. This is all for fun and fantasy no way reflecting canon. The things I write about are meant to make sense within the context of the story & will be explained as the story progresses.

wc: 5.4k

Chapter 1: The Day Everything Changed

“Oh. The flowers? Is it a special day?” Gojo asked, poking his head into your empty classroom as you sat at your desk grading papers.

The roses he spoke of were in a pristine glass vase. A gift from your boyfriend.

“Kento got them for me for our anniversary,” you replied shortly.

“Oh really? How long has it been now?” he asked, cocking his head to the side as if thinking.

“Two years,” you replied.

Surely he knew. How couldn’t he? The two of you had history and call it arrogance but given that history you were sure he kept tabs on your romantic life.

“Congratulations,” he said, though his enthusiasm seemed forced.

It was enough to make you snap

“Is there a reason you came to see me?” you asked.

He smiled and walked into the room fully now, a pink bag in his hand and placed it on your desk next to the flowers.

“I got you a souvenir from when I went to Kyoto,” he said, seemingly pleased with himself.

Curiosity winning out, you peered into the bag to find a medium sized white box. Taking the box out, you lifted the lid and gasped.

“It’s Kyogashi! Oh Satoru you shouldn’t have,” you said with glee at him having gotten you your favorite flower sweets.

Caught up in the moment you stood from your desk and hugged him. His chest vibrated as he laughed at your enthusiasm. His arms enveloped you as well and you felt his hands stroke your hair. Pulling back, you saw him looking down at you.

“It’s been a while since we’ve been this close,” he said, the corners of his lips flickering upwards.

Your face flushed beet red as he referenced your past with him.

“For good reason,” you said, shoving him away. He reluctantly let you go. Straightening your blouse, you hoped his cologne didn’t linger on your clothes. You wouldn’t want to have to explain that to Nanami.

“Have you ever told him about us?” Gojo asked, as if reading your mind.

“No. That’s all in the past. It was a long time ago so there’s no need to bring it up. Besides, you broke up with me. Remember?”

He appeared visibly hurt at your words, but there was no denying the truth in them. He had been the one who had ended things with you, even if it had been in an unorthodox way.

“Remember what?” Nanami walked into the room, having caught only the last of your words. You seemed flustered but luckily Gojo was quick on his feet as always.

“She was just reminding me that it’s the two of you’s anniversary,” he said.

Nanami walked over to you and placed an arm around your shoulders as he always did for comfort.

“Oh good. That’s exactly why I’m here to take her out for dinner. Otherwise she’ll work herself to death,” your boyfriend said laughing slightly. He peered over at your desk at the box and asked, “what are these?”

“Gojo got these for me as a souvenir from his mission in Kyoto,” you replied.

You’d never lie to Nanami, he didn’t deserve that. Plus it wasn’t unusual for Gojo to bring everyone souvenirs of some sort.

“Oh that’s nice. You deserve so many sweet things, darling,” he said, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze. He then addressed Gojo, “if you’ll excuse us I made reservations for us tonight so we really must be going.”

Nanami led you to the door, but not before stopping to grab your purse and drape it over his shoulder to carry it for you.

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” you said, snuggling into Gojo’s chest.

The two of you were laying down in a hammock outside, basking in the sun. Since there had been nothing pressing and it was an ‘off day’ the two of you had hiked near the outskirts of campus to set up the hammock and relax.

“So do I,” he replied, his lips grazing the top of your hair.

It was a nice spring day, the kind where the warmth of the sun shot dopamine into your veins and made life worth living again. Take into account the added warmth of Gojo’s body and you couldn't imagine a better place to be.

These getaways between the two of you had been more frequent and a secret from the rest of your cohort at jujutsu high. It’s not that the two of you had intended to make things secret, but you both found comfort and beauty in the privacy your relationship had to offer.

You felt Gojo’s lips at your jawline, trailing kisses there.

“Listen, about this upcoming mission…” he began what had been a source of contention between the two of you this past week.

“I know what you’re gonna say. I’m not staying behind, Yaga said I’m ready.”

You looked up at him, he was silent for a moment, his mouth forming a rigid line. Snuggling into him more, you tried to break down his resolve. “Satoru, you don’t have to worry about me, I can handle myself.”

His crystal eyes softened behind his frames and he pressed another kiss on top of your head before speaking.

“It’s not that I don’t think you’re ready. It’s not about Yaga thinking you’re ready. It’s just that special grade curses are different. They are on another level.”

“Well if it’s not about me being ready then what’s it about?” you pressed.

His cheeks grew pink.

“I just can’t lose you. I can’t stand the idea of you being hurt,” he said.

It was the closest to a confession about his feelings you’d gotten. He was sweet, affectionate, caring, and very much protective. But one thing Gojo struggled with was voicing his feelings. The fact that he did so now emphasized to you how serious he was about the upcoming mission and the danger it presented.

“I know, but that’s why you’ll be there to help protect me. Plus there’s Nanami, Yaga said he’d be going too.”

Gojo nodded, but his eyes had again taken that look where he seemed so far away in thought. You often wondered if his mind was occupied by the intersection of cursed energy and humanity as he always seemed lost in complex thought. But oftentimes when you’d catch him in this rumination, he’d quickly snap back to his carefree self, leaving you wondering if you had imagined it. This time, he let his rumination linger.

“Satoru, I’ll be fine. It’ll all be fine,” you said, softly inching upwards to snuggle your face into his neck, breathing in his ocean breeze scent.

“You better be, because I don’t know what I’ll do if it’s not.”

With the conviction he said it, you wondered if it’s the first time in his life Satoru Gojo felt truly vulnerable.

“How are you liking your meal?” Nanami asked over a bite of his own steak.

“It’s excellent. The salmon and lobster are to die for,” you replied.

The waitress stopped by and asked if the two of you needed anything. Nanami asked for more champagne as it was a special night.

The thing about Kento Nanami is that he was a lot more loose and laid back than people would think, of course under the right circumstances. Holidays and anniversaries provided those circumstances. Of course there was you, whenever the two of you were in a room together, people saw a side of him they usually didn’t see, a doting and affectionate side.

“My love, I want to take a moment to thank you for spending these past two years with me. Every moment of everyday you’ve given me something to live for,” he said. His hand reached out over the table to cover your free one, the warmth of his calloused palm made you shiver. You couldn’t help but compare his hand to Gojo, whose skin was soft.

No, that wasn’t right.

Why were you thinking of Gojo right now? You love Nanami, you have always been certain of that.

“Love?” Nanami questioned, worry forming behind his spectacles.

“I should be thanking you, Kento. You’ve treated me like a princess these past two years,” you replied.

He smiled, and it reached his eyes.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you too,” you said.

You loved Kento Nanami and his calloused hands you knew he had acquired from his years of hard work, both physical and mental labor that shaped the foundation of who he was and his beliefs. It was better to leave Satoru Gojo and his soft hands in the past, there was no place for him or them in your life anymore. He had been the one to make that clear.

“Just stick by me and you’ll be fine,” Gojo said to you as the three of you came upon a corporate office in the special wards of Tokyo.

The veil had been cast and the area had been blocked off by authorities so there wasn’t any concern of civilians being caught in the crossfire, or so it would seem.

“Remember this special grade can shapeshift, so it’s best we stick together. From the reports, it’s intelligent so it’s been camping out in this office building and luring victims inside using its shape shifting abilities,” Nanami said, giving you two a rundown in case you hadn’t done your homework.

Maybe other times he’d be justified in doing this, as Gojo was known for winging it, but given your presence, he had made you read the reports with him over and over.

So you knew that not only was the special grade curse a shapeshifter, but that it had been luring victims all over Toyoko in different places for the past few months. Due to its intelligence, the trail of it had gone cold as it was acting as a serial killer of sorts and had covered its tracks once it had sensed it was being hunted.

Most wicked of all the curse seemed to have had access to a missing person database and therefore transformed into the missing person and lured friends and family to their deaths.

It was awful, but it explained why Gojo was so worried, the curse exploited those dear to you.

“I should go in first, and scope it out. If I see it I’ll exorcise it,” Gojo said.

So much for sticking close to him, you thought.

“That wasn’t the plan,” Nanami refuted, “Yaga said we should stick together. Besides, it’s more logical that way. If it turns into you and we’re separated it can cause more confusion.”

“It can’t copy my techniques,” Gojo said, unconcerned and determined to go at it alone, no doubt his intention was to protect you.

“We don’t know that for certain. It hasn’t transformed into a sorcerer before. It’s best we stick together on the off chance it can mimick more than appearance.”

Gojo’s jaw was clenched. Nanami had him backed into a corner with his logic, there was no refuting it. Whether splitting up or staying together, there would still be risks posed to you.

His eyes locked with yours, but he made it seem as he was talking to the both of you.

“Stick by me.”

“Mmm, Kento” your head fell back in pleasure as he laid kisses down your neck, the door to your shared penthouse apartment just closing behind you. His kisses were heated and lustful, bringing out a side of him only you had the privilege of knowing.

“I want you, badly.. need you right now,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Fuck, so take me,” you replied.

He picked you up, effortlessly as though you were weightless, carrying you to your bedroom. He plopped you down on the bed and you fell back against the silken sheets.

“You’re so beautiful. I’ve been thinking about this moment all day,” he confessed as he undid the buttons of your blouse. You helped him shrug it off your shoulders until it was discarded to the side. That left you in your bra, breasts spilling out of the tight cups, a lone nipple just managing to peek through the top. Nanami cursed, hardening at the nip slip. He couldn’t seem to help himself as he bent forward to kiss you again, the kiss festering into a passionate make out of tongues, the stream of salvia that connected the two of you even after you broke apart served as evidence for the heated exchange.

“Ken,” you whimpered, the jolt of heat between your thighs growing painful.

“I know, all in good time,” he cooed. He groped your breasts, squeezing them slightly so they spilled over in the cups, both nipples fully exposed now. His hands moved quickly to undo your bra, fully removing it now. His lips found yours again, and you moaned into the kiss as he massaged your sensitive breasts. With shaky hands, you began to unbutton his shirt, revealing his muscled torso. The kiss became hungrier as you palmed at his pants to undo his zipper, when your hand made contact with his hard on, he muttered a faint “oh fuck,” against your lips. He gently pushed you back so you were laid down on the bed fully as he positioned himself on his knees in front of you. Quickly, your lower half was undressed panties and all until you were completely naked before him.

“So beautiful,” he praised once again, his face inched forward and you knew what he was going to do, “and all mine,” he added before his tongue licked at your folds.

You gasped, grasping at the silken bedsheets to stabilize yourself as he continued to pleasure you. His fingers began to join in and between them and his tongue he was crafting a symphonic arrangement uniquely curated to you and all your sensitive parts. His fingers stimulated your clit while he lapped at your arousal which continued to flood, overflowing and dripping on his chin.

“Kento, yes..it feels so good,” you moaned. He picked up the speed and as he did your hands went from the bedsheets to his hair, in an effort to be even closer, you pressed his face against your sex. You cried out as you felt the friction from his frames against your vulnerable skin.

All the white he continued to lap, the lewd noises of your wet skin and his lips permeating the dark room.

“Ken-I’m so close,” you warned.

“So cum then, cum all over my tongue,” he panted before resuming.

His voice, so animalistic, so unhinged and unlike his usual composed self, set you on edge and you felt your toes curl as the familiar sensation of an orgasm overtook your body.

Gasping for air, you felt your body give out to the sweet release as below Nanami lapped it all up.

“Tastes. So. Good,” he said each word between laps, savoring it.

By this point, you had fallen fully back against the bedsheets, hands over your head, your ribs and breasts rising and falling as you caught your breath. The view of Nanami, glasses drenched with moisture, hair flopping out of its usual gel style, and mouth puffy and pink made your heart race. And it began to race even more as he stood up, undid his tie, and shrugged off his shirt you had unbuttoned. His glasses soon followed, revealing his stunning hazel eyes. Finally, his pants and boxers were discarded.

Although you and Nanami had been very sexually active these past two years, it still caught you by surprise how big his cock was. It was long and the girth was impressive, and his pink head was the same color as his lips.

“We’re not done yet,” he whispered, lining himself up with your sex. “Spread your legs even wider for me, love.”

You did as he asked and the glow of the city lights coming in from the window shining on his skin made him all the more handsome. You felt his mushroom tip fetter its way into your folds easily and you both moaned in unison at the skin to skin contact as he slid his length into you. When he completely bottomed out inside you, he paused for a moment, allowing himself to soak inside of your warmth.

“You feel so good,” he sighed in complete bliss. Throughout your relationship during your pillow talk and aftercare he had described being in you as being in a domain. All he could feel was you, as though all he was ever meant to do was be inside of you, every moment of his life all the hard work and hours he has put in as a salaryman and a sorcerer had been to lead him to this moment, soaking inside of you, his heaven and his relief. He rested his forehead against yours for a few moments, the two of you savoring the sensation and tension of the unprotected contact that felt just as good as the first time even after two years. Shaky breaths and whimpers were the only sounds in the room. That is, until he spoke again.

“Tell me you love me,” he requested,”need to hear it again.”

“I love you,” you replied, genuinely.

“I love you too,” he reciprocated.

He then began to thrust in and out of you, setting a steady pace. You felt his cock going in and out of you, each time more wet than the last as he coated himself in your arousal, the sounds of slapping skin echoing.

Your eyes rolled back in pleasure as he continued until all you could feel was Nanami.

All you could think of was Nanami..

“Nanami? Did you hear that?” you asked as the three of you combed through the halls of the warehouse. Gojo led further up front, having requested, no more like commanded, to take the lead.

Nanami paused, cocking his head to the side, his long blonde hair falling like a curtain in the same direction.

“I didn’t hear anything, but it’s safe to assume the curse knows we’re here now. It’s best that we all stick together,” he said somewhat pointedly at Gojo.

The corporate office was truly a sad sight, where it was once a place no doubt bustling with business, the lights no longer worked and the few bulbs that remained in use flickered, threatening to go out at any moment. The three of you were on the first floor, having walked through the lobby and several conference rooms, there was no sign of the curse.

Except, you had heard rustling, and you felt the hair at the back of your neck stand up as though you were being watched.

“Let’s move on to the second floor,” Nanami said before calling out,”Gojo let’s move on.”

Gojo was crouched down on the floor dipping his finger in a small puddle of water.

No, not water, upon further inspection it looked like..

“Blood. Cursed spirit blood by the looks of it,” he said as the purple liquid dipped down his finger.

“So it’s been wounded recently? From what?” You asked.

“Maybe a victim tried to fight back and managed to puncture it somehow. Perhaps there’s still a survivor or it’s taken hostages,” Nanami said, thinking through the logic, “either way it’s vulnerable which means-“

“It’s a whole lot more dangerous,” Gojo finished. He locked eyes with you again, and the look in them made you gulp. “I’ll go on ahead and search. Nanami, you stay with her.”

Not this again, it seemed as if he was determined to go at the mission alone, and no doubt it was because of you.

“We’ve been through this. Due to the curse’s ability it is more advantageous for us to remain as a group,” Nanami said.

“So take her back to the school. We all know I can handle it on my own. Then we don’t have to worry about it changing into one of the two of you,” Gojo said.

“Satoru, I'm staying here,” you said with finality.

That did nothing to dissuade him.

“This isn’t a sightseeing trip or low level mission. You could die!” He shouted.

His words were like cold water. You knew the skill difference between the two of you, but he had never made you feel inferior before.

“I knew the risks when I came on. We all know the risks of being a sorcerer,” you said, your lip shook a little.

Regret formed in his crystal eyes and he opened his mouth to speak again but whatever he was trying to say was drowned out by a shriek.

Your shriek, it took a second for you to register the sound and the fact that it wasn’t coming from your mouth.

It was the curse.

The three of you turned and down the hall stood an exact replica of you, a perfect imposter.

Gojo cursed, and you knew this is what he had been afraid of.

Nanami planted a kiss on your bare shoulder as you snuggled back against him in bed. The two of you were still naked from your love making and had taken to cuddling afterwards.

“Your skin is so soft,” he said, as his lips took to the curve of your neck up to the back of your ear, now making you laugh.

“I think part of the credit for that goes to you, you spoil me with all these fancy creams and lotions Kento,” you said.

It was true. Nanami was loaded, filthyfully so, but he was so humble about it one wouldn’t know it. It’s not that he didn’t enjoy luxury he did, but his form of luxury wasn’t branded items to show off to others, it was silent wealth, expensive items he enjoyed for their quality and longevity such as his watches or the rare edition books he was fond of collecting. Most of all, he loved to spend his wealth on you. Anything you even showed interest in was yours, the bathroom was stocked with luxury brands for you to use and he had gifted you more lingerie sets and clothing than you knew what to do with.

“Spoiling you gives me something to live for,” he said, nuzzling his face into your hair and breathing in the scent, “ask me for anything and it’s yours.”

You turned to face him, his eyes were so kind as they always were. That was something you had always enjoyed about Nanami, his eyes were kind towards all, but of course there had always been a certain fondness in them that was reserved for you. It had taken you embarrassingly long to notice that.

“I want you to not work yourself to death. You’re always saying I do that but you’re worse than me. You’re always going away on missions,” you said cupping his cheek with your hand.

“I can’t do that, dear. You and I both know the responsibilities of a grade one sorcerer,” he said.

Yes, you both did.

Perhaps it would have been a responsibility the two of you shared if it hadn’t been for you no longer continuing to practice your techniques and skills. Perhaps if you had only continued you could accompany him on these missions, instead you had opted to remain at the school teaching in class instruction only.

Ever since that day, that mission so long ago..

“Hey, I didn’t mean anything by it,” he said softly, he turned his head to kiss your palm. You dropped your hand, returning it at your side. You didn’t look at him.

Yes he didn’t mean anything by it, but this was a source of contention between the two of you. It was because of your guilt of not being able to accompany him on missions, your fear of losing him, and most of all the deep rooted shame you had in yourself for quitting.

Yes you could still practice now, get stronger and better, but was it worth it?

You had been out of the field for so long and you enjoyed the life you had now with Nanami. It was a life of comfort, stability, but still you wondered if there was more you could be doing. So now every time Nanami left, you worry about losing him. He did have a good work life balance but he was a man of conviction and principles who took his responsibilities so seriously that he wouldn’t hesitate to lose his life in an instance if it was for a higher calling, the thought scared you.

“You said ask you for anything I want, and that’s what I want,” you said in a small voice.

He chuckled slightly.

“No fair, sweetheart. You know I can’t deny you anything,” he said.

You moved closer, so your face was a mere few inches from his.

“So don’t, stay with me,” you whispered before kissing him.

He moaned into your kiss, and you could tell you were threatening all of his resolve.

“Fine, love. You get your wish. I cut back on the number of missions I take,” he said.

“But?” You pressed, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“But?” He repeated.

“Do I have to do something in return?” you clarified.

He laughed.

“At a later date I’ll ask you for something in return. For now, let me enjoy being this close to you.”

The shriek still echoing in your ears, you didn’t have time to process anything as the curse disappeared from in front of you and a black sinking hole appeared underneath your feet.

Your own hands, duplicate imposter hands, grabbed at your feet and dragged you through the sinkhole. You heard Gojo call your name but it sounded so very distant.

When you got your bearings straight, you looked around and saw you were in a basement of sorts. The three of you hadn’t even thought to start with the basement! In fact the three of you hadn’t even thought there was a basement as most modern corporate offices no longer had any. It was a minor error, but a critical one all the same.

“Don’t try to run, it won’t help your friends,” the curse said in your voice.

It still looked like you, identical down to your shoes.

“I don’t have to run. They’ll find the basement soon enough,” you said.

You didn’t move as the curse dragged you by the arm and took you further back into the basement. To your surprise, there was an old automobile there. The curse took you around it, sat you down facing forward. It was then that you noticed some thick rope and a wad of duct tape there.

“Seems like you’ve thought everything through,” you said.

Now would be a good time to use your abilities.

But should you?

Perhaps the curse only copied what it could see. If you used your abilities would more danger fall upon you? Physical combat would be better, much safer.

The curse tied you up on the car leg while you debated this. You struggled against it and spat in your own face as it held up the duct tape.

That caused the curse to strike you in the face, and then put the duct tape on your mouth. Then it left you there.

Did it mean to steal your identity? Gojo and Nanami were smarter than that, they’d expect it. But it was clear the curse was operating on higher levels of intelligence than anticipated, it was scheming even.

“Stay here,” it spat at you as though you had any other option.

The curse then went back to the front of the basement.

You heard racing footsteps, Gojo’s footsteps.

“I got away but the curse it’s still out there!” You heard your voice shrillish, and authentic.

“Did you see where it went? Are you hurt?” Gojo asked.

No, something was wrong.. how could he not tell it wasn’t you?

Perhaps he was toying with the curse, letting it put its guard down.

You turned your neck and could see ever so slightly Gojo and yourself standing several feet away. The height difference between the two of you was more jarring from this perspective.

“I didn’t see where it went. I’m okay but it was so scary,” the curse said, still imitating you.

Gojo bent down pressing his forehead against yours.

“It’s okay. I’m here now,” he said.

To your horror the way he said it, in the soft tone reserved just for you, served as evidence that he had been duped.

But how?

Couldn't he sense it with his six eyes? What was going on?

Even more horrific he leaned forward and so did the curse as if to kiss their lips mere inches apart….

Suddenly, Nanami ran into the room and without hesitation used his sword to slice the curse in two, purple blood flying everywhere.

That’s when you began to cough up something sweet in your throat.

You heard the two young men arguing.

The last thing you heard before passing out was Gojo screaming your name…

You woke up at Jujutsu High a few days later, in the medical wing of campus.

“Hey, there’s our girl,” Shoko said, smiling at you. She was sitting at your bedside.

“Where’s Gojo?” you asked.

She ignored your question and touched your temple, causing you to relax instantly.

“Do you feel okay? I had to work long on you. I also wanted to keep a close watch on you it was a very interesting case study actually-“ she stopped, knowing her comments would only make you more curious.

“Shoko. Where’s Gojo?” You pressed.

She seemed hesitant as if she wasn’t sure how much she was at liberty to say.

“He came to see you several times. I can let him know you’re up. He should be here soon.”

She then left to do so, whipping out her cellphone.

It was odd.

The Gojo you knew would be here, at your bedside.

But day turned into night and he still didn’t see you.

For whatever reason you weren’t allowed out of the medical wing on Yaga’s orders apparently.

Three days past, and he still didn’t see you.

It was only on the fourth day when you woke up from one of the Shoko induced slumbers via sedation that you saw him standing there in front of your bed.

He looked like he had lost weight even though it had only been a few days. His shades fully covered his eyes.

“Why didn’t you come to see me? What happened? Was the mission successful?” Your mouth spilled out several questions without even thinking.

He was silent for a while before answering.

“The mission was successful. Nanami killed the curse easily. It evidently was on the brink of death already.”

“But?”

That’s when he explained. Truly explained.

The curse was unique in nature in that it had to suck the life force out of another organic being in order to survive. That’s why it had taken on the appearance of the missing children and lured family and friends. It fed off the feel good energy that the family and friends emitted upon thinking they found their loved one. Except here was the twist, the children died because their loved ones believed the curse was them. It was that transfer of energy that allowed the curse to add to its lifespan and in short take the energy from the person it was imitating. It was a leech in nature.

That’s why when the curse had been killed you had begun to choke as well because it had linked its life force to your own.

“But it had to have tricked you. Surely there’s something else, another ability it has to dull the senses and that’s why you thought it was me,” you said.

Because this truth was too difficult to accept. Satoru, your Satoru would know you anywhere wouldn’t he?

“That’s just the thing. I’ve racked my mind around it. There’s no ability, no reason why I of all people could have fallen for something so simple,” he turned away from you now, his back facing towards you, “the simple truth is I didn’t see it because I wasn’t looking.”

He then walked out of the room, despite you calling him to come back.

You chased after him but he was gone, vanished into the air.

In the subsequent days he was gone and when you asked Yaga, all he said was that Gojo had taken a leave from the school for personal reasons.

Days turned into weeks.

Weeks turned into months.

Months into years.

It was six whole years before you saw him again.

By that point you were in your early teaching career and he evidently had gone to the Kyoto school to finish his studies and become a great grade one sorcerer.

For a while you had dreams of him abandoning you, dreams of that day where everything changed…

a/n: if you read the whole thing thank you I always appreciate the time people spend to read my content. Any feedback is always appreciated as well.

#satoru gojo x reader #gojo x you #nanami x you #kento nanami x reader #satoru gojo #kento nanami #jjk drabbles #jjk x reader #nanami smut #gojo and nanami #jjk fanfic

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garbinge · 1 year ago

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Beach Day

Angel Reyes x F!Reader (EZ Reyes & F!Reader) From these August Prompts: "Sand gets everywhere." & For @the-slumberparty's Bingo Challenge! Bingo square: Beach Day Word Count: 2k Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Angst, cursing. Mayans Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @narcolini @danzer8705 @keyweegirlie

“I cannot wait to just lay out on the beach all day,” your voice broke the silence in the car.

You were currently going into hour 2 of your road trip down to the Tijuana Beach with a group of the Mayan boys. It was an annual trip that started about 5 years ago. It was nice for them to take a break from club things and for you to finally get some vacation time in with your boyfriend, who at the moment seemed less than thrilled.

You glanced over at Angel who had a serious facial expression on display for the entire car ride as he drove down to the usual beach house you rented.

“If you want we can pull over and I can drive us the rest of the way?” You offered up something that maybe would alleviate whatever was going on in his head.

“Nah, I’m good.” He shook his head, keeping his right hand on the wheel while his left hung out the window.

You glanced back at EZ, hoping that maybe he would offer some type of explanation of why his brother, your boyfriend, was acting the way he was. EZ’s head tilted as he shrugged indicating he didn't know what was going on with his older brother. To break the tension that Angel kept alive and well in the car, you turned in the passenger seat so you could look back at EZ and talk with him.

“So, tell me. What have you been up to? I hear you’ve had a girl around. I want to know everyyyyything.” You carried out the last word to come off less strong. You never liked to pry with EZ but you liked being in the know of what was happening in each of the guys’ personal lives.

His smile filled his face as he looked down. You could have even swore he blushed a little, too. “It’s nothing.” He spoke through his grin.

You smiled back, for the trauma each of the Reyes men had gone through they all sure had the most contagious smiles. “EZ, come on. It’s me, just give me something. A name? Her favorite color? I’ll take anything.” You begged for him to drop a crumb of information.

“Sofía. And I think she likes yellow.” He mocked you while still giving you the details you were dying for.

“Tell her to come to the beach house.” It was said nonchalantly as to not apply pressure and went to grab a snack from your backpack.

“It’s new, not sure if I’m ready to put her through your beach house screening test just yet.” EZ laughed.

You waved him off, “Ugh, you know that’s only for the two idiots in the van behind us.” Referring to Coco and Gilly you waved your hand in the air. “They would bring those weird guys from the Yuma charter if they could, and I fucking hate those guys. Which is why they have to run their plus one’s past me. Now you EZ, I trust,” you handed him one of the snacks you grabbed and then one to Angel, “BUT, I digress. You bring her around when you’re ready.”

The remainder of the car ride went by fast, it helped that Coco and Gilly had pulled up next to the truck and baited Angel into racing, you normally would have put some type of discourse up but it seemed to lighten Angel’s mood a bit so you let them have their fun.

The beach house was perfect, in fact, it was one of your favorite places in the world. Once you found it online all those years ago, there was no way you were going to book any other house along the Mexican coast ever again. It was right on the beach, the front porch of the house led right onto the sand, which might as well have been private since only a handful of people ever walked by or shared the space with you.

It was still early enough in the day that the group of you could get in some beach time. You already had your suit on so you just grabbed a chair and your book, announcing your plans as you exited the house after claiming bedrooms and settling your stuff down.

“I’ll be on the beach, feel free to join me!”

Just as you sat down in the beach chair and leaned back, you could hear the complaints from the eldest Reyes grow louder and louder as he got closer to your spot on the beach.

“Fuckin’ hot out here. And there’s fuckin’ sand everywhere. I got sand everywhere,” he mumbled as he threw his towel down next to you.

“Do you want to sit in the chair? I’ll take the towel?” You offered a semi-solution to his grievances.

He stared at you, he wanted to snap, but when his eyes met yours he calmed for a moment, he wasn’t mad at you, in fact he had been excited for this trip, he loved that you did this every year not only for him but the guys too. There had just been so much shit happening at the club lately and of course right before they left Bishop had told them they were all on call. It was why they took the two cars in the first place, that and because three years ago they were in the situation where something with the club popped up and they had to all leave early since there was only one car, and you were NOT going to have that ever happen again.

“Angel?” The sunglasses were now sliding down your nose as you looked at him getting lost in whatever frozen state he was in.

He bent down and gave you a light peck on the lips. “I’m good. I’m gonna go in the water.”

You watched him dive into the ocean, you would have accompanied him but you knew he needed some time, some space. While you weren’t privy to club business, you weren’t oblivious to the fact that things had been tense. You also knew that Angel had very little emotional awareness and wasn’t exactly able to open up about things so easily, which you accepted, you wouldn’t have been with him for 5 years if you didn’t, but you knew you had to let him work through his own shit if you didn’t want to push him away.

EZ had soon joined next to you, placing a cooler to the left of your chair and offering you a beer from it.

You cheered him and took a long sip. You closed your eyes as the cold liquid traveled down and cooled down your entire body for less than a second. A sigh escaped from your mouth and you opened your eyes as you sunk into the beach chair.

“Been waitin’ for that moment?” EZ was grinning.

Before you could answer you heard the yells and shortly after you felt the sand grains being pelted against your skin as Coco and Gilly ran down passed you and right into the water.

“Moment ruined.” You laughed, placing your beer in the cup holder and EZ got ready to join them.

“Hey EZ,” you called to him before he took a step farther.

“Sup?” he turned to you with ease, squinting from the sun beaming into his eyes.

“Is Angel okay?” You asked, not really knowing what to expect in an answer.

His head turned to look at his brother who was now bullshitting with the guys, he knew what you were asking, he could have taken the easy route and been like ‘yea, look at him!’ and just ignored what you really meant but he knew you were asking because of genuine concern.

“Things are rocky at the club right now.” He chose his words carefully, “things are rocky for him at the club right now. I think this will be good for him, a break from it all.”

Looking out at him having a good time with the guys, you nodded at EZ’s words, it was the best explanation you were gonna get and you appreciated him for giving you some sort of reasoning behind it all. With a deep sigh, your eyes moved back to the younger Reyes brother and you thanked him before he made his way to the ocean.

You let them have their fun for a bit as you soaked up the sun and finished a few beers. At some point you nodded off for a few minutes, not for very long but when you woke up, you realized you were starting to sweat. The boys had seemed to calm down from their normal antics and were just wading in the water now.

After taking off your flip flops and dredging through the sand, you made it to the water. First, you let the water ease up to your toes, it was warm, another reason you chose this spot every year, it was perfect.

A breath released from your mouth as the water reached your feet again, one you didn’t even know was stuck somewhere in your gut probably along with the anxiety and stress of whatever Angel was going through, too bad that didn’t find its way out. But you stared at him just floating in the water and decided despite either of yours anxiety, you’d make the most of this trip.

Swimming out to him, you enjoyed every second of being in the water, the sun beaming down, the teal color of the water allowing you to see down to the bottom with ease. Reaching Angel, your hands moved up his bare chest as he moved from horizontal to vertical in the water.

“Hey.” You spoke at a whisper, his hands moved up and down your back as yours found their way to rest over his shoulders. He was standing now on the bottom of the ocean floor, which allowed you to wrap your legs around him and let the water hold you both up.

“You fell asleep.” His hand moved up to touch your face, which was pretty hot from the sun rays beating down on it.

“I did.” You chuckled and moved to hug him.

“This is nice.” He let out a breath similar to what you did when you entered the water. You knew there was more he was holding in still but there was some relief knowing that some tension was gone.

Before either of you could say anything else, Gilly was speaking up from the shoreline. You weren’t exactly sure when any of them got out, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was what Gilly was saying.

“Yo!!! Bish called, shit went down, we gotta head back!” He was disappointed, he had Coco standing next to him who looked equally pissed off.

EZ was closer to shore than you and Angel but was still in the water. He looked back at you two before heading back to shore.

You felt the tension in Angel’s shoulders build back up, nothing a deep breath or hug could fix. Instead of fixing it, you just pressed your forehead to his. “We have this for a week, go do whatever you gotta do for Bish and come back, and if it lasts the full week, when things slow down at the club, I’ll book it again for just us two.” It was your version of making things work.

Angel’s eyes were closed as he spoke. “I don’t know if things will ever slow down at the club.”

There wasn’t much you could say to that, but after a few seconds of thought mixed with a little of your own frustration, you cupped Angel’s face in your hands.

“Then I’ll bring the beach to you, we’ll get a pool and I’ll dye it fuckin’ teal and I’ll bring home a tub of sand.”

Angel let out a laugh, it was the first time you heard him laugh like that in well, weeks. “Let’s just stick with the pool and leave the sand.”

“Sand gets everywhere.” You nodded and laughed along with him.

He agreed with you as he chuckled. “That shit gets everywhere.”

#Mayans MC #Mayans Fx #Angel Reyes #Angel Reyes x Reader #Angel Reyes x f!reader #EZ Reyes

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meteor752 · 1 year ago

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Spent a whole week binging rwby because why not

Here are mah thoughts

Very interesting decision of the show to open on literally the best character, like I’ve heard of peaking early but come on

No but fr Roman is actually so special to me

I just finished volume nine and I broke down crying at his and Neo’s final moments

Thing is, I’m a person with daddy issues and my favorite family member is my uncle so like of course Qrow is second favorite guy

We love us a bisexual subby whore

Ozpin is number three so like guess what my favorite ship is

(Side note, My Own Worst Enemy by Elektric Angel is one of the best fics I have ever read and I cannot recommend it enough)

Why the fuck did this show start out with having one of the four main characters be racist?! What a bold choice

I hate Jaune so fucking much. If you like him, cool, but he’s one my most hated fictional characters ever, not just him but like what he represents

Tho it is worse with Neptune, who’s also like why tf are you here bruv

It’s very funny to have a borderline kinda racist character and a literal meme from 2014 be drafted into war

It took me five days to break and create ocs. They’re called Lemon Lime, Azure, Iris, and Koral. Team LAIK. Maybe I’ll talk about them more at some other point

Listen okay I know that animated shows like to have your hero be depressed in a whole arc, but like god Ruby was kinda grating in season 9.

Blake is kinda rolling with like, one personality trait, but ya know good on her for getting a cool gf

Yang is also the best out of the main four girls

So is Tai, Summer, and Raven’s relationship supposed to be a polycule? That must have been awkward for poor Qrow back in school

Why the fuck is everyone so mad at Ozpin all the time. Like boohoo, daddy didn’t tell you Santa isn’t real, get fucking over yourself Qrow you’re forty three

But fr what is the animosity about. I think Jelloapocalypse summarized it the best in his rwby video

Also did you know the top comment on there is from Technoblade? Check it out, it’s true. No idea he was a rwby fan, but like good for him

Season 6 episode “Alone in the woods” is the best episode by far. I really like when they do more unique stuff with the Grimm, other than just ‘monster’

That being said I’m always a sucker for a space whale

But the line from that episode, “No one was angry or sad or scared. No one was anything. And then, no one was left” is so powerful

Season nine is like fully a fever dream, but it helps with connecting to the main four again, so I like it

Also they need to stop introducing characters we don’t need any more it’s so cluttered

Why the fuck did the tree have Summer’s weapon? What the fuck was she doing there, frolicking in wonderland? Gurl…

I miss Oobleck. He hasn’t been around since like season 4, like what the hell man

What the fuck is Cinder and Emerald’s relationship supposed to be? Are they sisters? Friends? Is Emerald in love with her? Because she seems to be.

Emerald and Mercury are fully siblings tho. Also I love Mercury

Arthur’s monologue to Cinder was one of the best scenes in the show. I loved it, I’m sad he died

The character I relate the most to is little scorpion freak, because honestly dude saaaaaaame

God I want Salem to fuck me

The motivation of the villain being that they’re an immortal being, who wants the world to end because then they can die, is so fucking interesting and I’m surprised I don’t see more of it.

Do you guys think the only reason that Jaune was made leader of team JNPR was because they couldn’t think of a colour with those letters that started with P?

Do you think that’s how they choose all leaders?

How the fuck is Ren supposed to be a version of Mulan? Apart from him being Asian, there’s no correlation. Jesus Christ…

Him and Nora are very t4t tho. Very glad that they established boundaries about their relationship tho, like open communication is all I need

Why is Ambrosius kinda 💅

This isn’t related to rwby but there’s like a bird or smt screaming outside my window and it kinda sounds like a ghost girl and now I’m scared…

I feel like Salem and Ozpin’s relationship is very uncomfortable with Oscar stuck in the middle. Like why did they have to make him fourteen

Pupsicle!!!!

If I had a child in this universe I would absolutely name them something that starts with a vowel. Some of these team names are a fucking stretch, I mean SSSN?!

Another bold move by the creators is having the first few seasons villains be minorities fighting for Justice and equality. Like idk anything about these dudes, but it’s a little yikes

The fact that everyone in this world is an X-men and the show took four seasons to actually explain that is hilarious

Actually the show taking its time to explain anything is hilarious

Like, six seasons in and we find out the villain’s motivations. Hell four seasons in and we find out the villain

The first opening song was easily the best. Like I said, peaked early

The ship names of this fandom are fucking baller dude. Very creative

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bbcphile · 7 months ago

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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers (except me because obvs I have done it). Spread the self-love ❤

Thanks for the ask, @thesilversun! 😀

Since the ask said written, not “are writing,” I’m not including my current MLC longfic (as yet unnamed), but otherwise it would absolutely be on this list. It’s 58k and not yet halfway through (facepalm), and I’m really looking forward to finishing it and sharing it. So, for MLC folks, sorry there’s only one MLC fic here!

1. What’s Sealed Away (Mysterious Lotus Casebook, Dihua)

I really enjoyed figuring out how a-Fei’s amnesia works based on the details the show gives us and the things it’s oddly silent about, and reverse engineering based on how he acts towards LLH what his experience of amnesia might be like. (Also, as someone who has unfortunately had experience with amnesia, I feel like most examples of the amnesia trope really punt on the many different kinds of memory and how amnesia can mean you lose some but not all, and the wild things that happen when there are contradictions between them.) I’m also really proud of the ways I tried to convey the meanings behind LLH’s reactions even when DFS as the POV character had no way to fully interpret them because of all the missing context. It was a fun writing challenge.

2. Nunc Atque Semper (Horatio Hornblower, Maria/Horatio Hornblower, past Archie Kennedy/Horatio Hornblower; the only Dead Kennedy Universe fic I will ever write)

I can’t even read fics where Archie dies without being an emotional mess for days, so I was not ever expecting to write one. But 1. I got a prompt for it, and 2. It was a chance to hold Horatio accountable for the ways he treats Maria in the series while also being sympathetic to him for his overwhelming grief and being married to someone he doesn’t love; and 3. I love incorporating literary allusions into my work, and Archie’s canonical love of Shakespeare meant that I could have a central part of the fic be Maria essentially trying to do literary analysis to figure out what Archie and Horatio were to each other. I very much broke my own heart with this fic and I’m still proud of it.

3. Harboured and Encompassed (Horatio Hornblower modernAU (libraryAU + actor!Archie), Archie/Horatio; Archie/Horatio/Will pre-slash; 148,000 words)

I am still so incredibly proud of how I adapted the characters and events (with aspects of some of the books thrown in) to a modern setting while staying true to who they are. These characters will always have a very very special place in my heart, as will the special combo of humor, fluff, and heart-rending angst that having a character like Archie at the center of it enabled (I miss writing him so much sometimes). I love the whole series, too, but this is definitely the core of it.

4. Turning Over the Sands of Time (Horatio Hornblower, Archie/Horatio)

I still don’t understand why this one has so few kudos when I think it’s some of my best writing. Maybe the subject matter is too bleak/violent? (Mind the tags if you read it!) I really love writing missing scene fics and character studies, and the moments from the show that bookend this fic break my heart every time and make me fall in love with Archie all over again, respectively, and I wanted to delve into the hellscape of Archie’s mind in those moments and show how, even when he is in emotional agony and dealing with flashbacks, he is still compassionate and caring and trying with what little agency he has to make sure no one ever suffers as he did, or at least, if they are forced to, that no one has to suffer alone. (Also, a horribly depressed and triggered Archie means a very poetic Archie, which means I got to write lines like “The actors had changed, but the play had not” and “a rotting weed by any name would smell as fetid” and “Dying might be a price worth paying if it could but purchase that.” Have I mentioned I miss writing Archie?)

5. Taking Hands Against a Sea of Troubles (Horatio Hornblower, Archie/Horatio)

TW: suicide mention

The first time I saw a delirious Archie quote Anthony and Cleopatra during his suicide attempt and the play-illiterate Horatio has no idea what he’s saying, I knew I wanted to write the a scene where they see the play together years later in Drury Lane and Horatio finally understands the context. And I knew the scene in the theater box would need so much non-verbal communication and would need to be so comparatively subtle–because of the semi-public nature of the theatre box and the very real danger they would face if Horatio actually comforted Archie more overtly–so I waited a few years after having the idea until I was able to execute it the way I wanted to. I really love fics that deal just as much (if not more) in what’s unsaid than what’s said–for all that I love deep dives into character psychology–and I’m so glad I was able to finally write this.

Thanks again for the ask!

#about me #ask meme #writing #mysterious lotus casebook #Horatio Hornblower #Archie Kennedy

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skipplings · 1 year ago

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Unbearably White

Kaveh x Reader, Words: 1,721

Author's Note: This fic was inspired by "Unbearably White" by Vampire Weekend which is one of my favorite songs ever. I like using songs for inspiration so there will likely be more of those as well <3 any suggestions for fics or feedback on this one are greatly appreciated! okay enjoy!!

The pages of Kaveh’s notebook always seemed to consume him. Most days, his pen seemed to move on its own when he was drafting blueprints. But lately, Kaveh has struggled to find inspiration without you in his life.

Afternoon light illuminated the mess that befell Alhaitham's kitchen table as Kaveh worked. Papers were strewn all over the place, despite the architect seemingly only pouring over a single notebook. The soft sound of the door latch opening and closing again informed Kaveh that his quiet morning alone in the house had come to an end.

“Are you seriously in the same spot I left you? You’ve been staring at that same blank notebook page since this morning.” Alhaitham stated bluntly. Kaveh let out a deep sigh and slumped over, letting his head hit the table. The pen that was in his hand dropped to the floor. “What, has all your architectural genius run out now that you’ve lost your muse?” In that moment, if Kaveh could have sunken into the table and disappeared completely, he would have. Maybe life as Alhaitham’s kitchen table would be more inspired. It had been a little over a year since you left for Fontaine, and thus a little over a year since you and Kaveh broke up.

…

“What do you mean ‘just don’t go’? This is for my thesis, Kaveh. I’ve been working up to this my whole academic career! How could you even say something like that?” You storm out of the Akademiya’s front doors waving your hand dismissively at Kaveh.

“I thought your studies were going just fine here, I don’t see why you need to go to Fontaine and be a Driyosh.” Kaveh is hot on your trail though he stumbles down the building’s front steps in his pursuit.

“I have been studying Merusea Village for years now without ever going. My research proposal finally got approved by the review board on my third try. This is my chance, Kaveh! Besides, you’re so busy with work. Maybe it would be a good thing for me to get out of your hair for a while.” Kaveh reaches out and grabs your wrist, with a huff you turn around to face him. Your eyes betray how his words have hurt you, but Kaveh still can’t help but feel like you aren’t listening to him.

“Out of my hair?! I can’t believe you!” Kaveh scolds as he drops your wrist and crosses his arms, “Maybe you’re right, maybe you are what’s holding me back! And one day you’ll tell people that before you ran off to Fontaine you dated the richest and most famous architect in Teyvat!” Kaveh watches as tears begin to form in your eyes.

“Dated..? Past tense?” Your words pierced through Kaveh. His jaw goes slack as he realizes what he said. “Fine if that’s how you really feel, don’t let me hold you back from your dreams. I’m sure as hell not letting you hold me back from mine!”

…

Although he was hurting, Kaveh tried to bury himself in his work. Luckily he was to secure a new project within the last month. However, his proposal deadline for the building’s final design was approaching and he hadn’t been able to come up with anything. The page in the notebook in front of him seemed unbearably white, blinding even. He had found himself staring at blank pages a lot in the past month. Most pages in his notebook had only a few basic shapes sketched on them, but a couple had letters he’d drafted to you. He may have actually sent them if he knew to send them, but he figured even if he could you probably wouldn’t want to hear from him.

Kaveh flipped through his notebook until he reached the cover. He traced his finger over the embossed lettering of his initials. Beneath the letters laid a message reading ‘For my genius architect and all his genius ideas’. You were of course just teasing Kaveh when you gifted the notebook to him. But now the words particularly stung after your last conversation. It didn’t occur to Kaveh how deep in thought he was until the sound of his roommate’s voice pulled him out.

“Why don’t you go get some fresh air. Try to find some inspiration in nature. Clearly my kitchen isn’t getting you anywhere.” Alhaitham suggested plainly. Kaveh grumbled in begrudging agreement as he began to gather his things. On his way out, he grabbed Mehrak and his greatsword before letting the door close slowly behind him.

Despite it being a long walk, the one place that Kaveh thought might give him an ounce of inspiration was the palace of Alcazarzaray. As he approached the palace, he realized how long it had been since he visited his masterpiece. Walking the grounds filled him with a great sense of pride. He admired how the greenery had grown in this season and how everything surrounding the palace served to complement it. Kaveh greeted the staff members cheerily, and made his way over to the fountain to sit for a while. Though when he got close he noticed the familiar face of someone already sitting beside the structure. Their expression showed that they were deep in thought as they peered into the crystalline water.

You looked up from the water to meet Kaveh’s gaze. Your face flushed as you shot up and began walking quickly away in the opposite direction of Kaveh.

“Hey, wait! Please–” Kaveh ran to catch up to you, “ What are you doing here? I didn’t think you were coming back so soon! How long have you been back?” Kaveh planted himself firmly in your path, placing his arms outstretched in a dramatic fashion. “Please just talk to me…”

You chewed on your lip anxiously and stared at your feet as you spoke.

“I just came here to clear my head…” you mumbled, “You’re so busy I know you hardly ever come here, I haven’t run into you here so far.” You glanced up nervously at Kaveh before averting your eyes to study the palace.

“You- wait so you are back? Did something go wrong with your research?” Kaveh questioned with worry, “Are you okay?” Although Kaveh’s speech was frantic and his mind was racing, he felt as if time had slowed down since laying eyes on you. His heart was beating violently in his chest and he wanted nothing more than to run away. But thoughts of you hadn’t left his mind since your departure a year ago. And he would hate himself if he gave up this chance to speak to you one last time. You were back to biting your lip, and you took a long pause before you started speaking again.

“No, I’m not back. My research is fine, thanks.” You replied curtly.

“So why are you here?” Kaveh prodded.

“Look, this isn’t your property or anything!” You snapped.

“It’s not but I’m sure I could notify Dori of any trespassers and have them removed if I so pleased.” Kaveh had no intention of following through on this threat but, you didn’t know that.

“It’s just easy for me to write when I’m here, okay?” You barked annoyedly, “And I’ve been getting homesick I guess… ” The second part was a mumble, but Kaveh managed to hear it. “Some days I catch a boat to Bayda Harbor and hike up here to draft my thesis. When I’m in Merusea Village I can hardly write anything at all.” You finally turned your head to look at Kaveh and as you did so he quickly reached up to wipe tears from his eyes.

“May I hug you?” Kaveh asked quietly. You hesitated for a moment before nodding slowly. Before you knew it you were enveloped in the warm arms of your ex lover. He rested his head on yours and swayed back and forth slightly. “I’ve missed you.” Kaveh whispered into your ear as he held you.

You two remained in your embrace for sometime before Kaveh finally loosened his hold on you. When you stepped back from one another, there was a beat of silence before Kaveh spoke.

“I’m sorry about everything. I’ve had so much time to think and I should have never tried to hold you back from your research. I can’t imagine how lonely and scary it is to be a Driyosh and I should have been there for you. I want nothing more than to make it up to you.” Now it was your turn to tear up. You began nodding slowly as Kaveh spoke. “You mentioned you can’t write since leaving?”

“Yes,” you replied, “I come here because it reminds me of you. It helps me think.” A dusting of pink appeared on your cheeks as you spoke but you didn’t avert your eyes from Kaveh’s. A sheepish smile formed on his face hearing this.

“I can’t get any ideas out either. The closest I get is when I write in the notebook you gave me.” You smiled too at hearing this.

“I’m sorry I got so upset when you wanted me to stay. It was just so hard because I didn’t want to leave you either.” A sadness glimmered in your eyes when you spoke of the last argument you and Kaveh had.

“You are completely right, I should have been there for you. I was just so focused on the feeling that another person I loved was leaving me– and for Fontaine of all places...” You slapped a hand over your mouth in realization as tears began to well in your eyes.

“Oh archons Kaveh, your mother. I didn’t even think– it never even crossed my mind why my leaving for Fontaine might’ve been extra painful for you.” Kaveh began fidgeting with Mehrak in his hands. His cheeks were hot with embarrassment.

“Listen, I know you probably shouldn’t be seen in Sumeru City until you’ve completed your research. And I’m too busy to be able to go and meet you in Fontaine. But maybe we could meet in Bayda Harbor from time to time so we can share ideas with one another? And we could exchange letters in the meantime…” Kaveh trailed off as he realized he may have been a bit presumptuous. “If that’s something you’d like… I mean.”

You smiled warmly and practically lept into Kaveh’s arms. Kaveh struggled for a moment to hold both you and Mehrak before he put his briefcase down to hold you properly.

“I take that as a yes?” Kaveh lilted.

“Yes.”

#kaveh x reader #reader insert #reader is not traveler #sumeru #gender neutral pronouns #oneshot #genshin impact #light angst #angst with a happy ending #angst #genshin impact kaveh #skippworks #fanfic

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