#can you tell the 'i wasn't supposed to be alive this long' is hitting

[hikeyzz]

i'm 26 now!!!! i made it to 26!!!! i made it to my late 20s!!!! i'm growing up & growing old!!!!! i'm so lucky!!!!!!!

[romanticintheory]

thinking about fellow soldier!reader coming back to ghost after having been mistaken for kia

gn!reader x simon "ghost" riley

-maybe he's back in your shared apartment, holding the last photo he took with you.

-it was taken the day of your birthday, with your arms around simon's waist and a gleeful smile permanently etched on your face.

-you were looking directly at the camera with your eyes crinkled at the corners. simon, however, was looking at you and only you with an expression only a lovestruck fool could manage.

-he had long since stopped crying about what he believed was your death. when price came to him with a somber expression and the news that you were on the wrong end of an explosion, the only thing he could do was cry or be angry.

-now, he felt nothing.

-you could imagine his surprise when he hears the front door open. did he forget to lock it? was someone breaking in? he didn't care enough to prepare himself for a potential attack.

-but, no, you walked in with an ungodly amount of bandaged wounds and a tired look on your face.

-you expected him to stand from his place on the sofa to meet you, but he didn't. he thought he was imagining things, again, so he said nothing.

-"simon," you said softly, not bothering to take off your shoes and throwing you things onto the ground next to you.

-still, he said nothing.

-"i'm sorry. i'm so, so sorry. price said he tried to contact you but that you never answered," you continued. nobody knew where you and ghost lived, and simon's grief took the form of self-isolation.

-he still didn't answer you at this point, and it was becoming unsettling.

-"simon, can you hear me?"

-"you're not real," was all he could muster. he didn't have the heart to tell "fake" you to go away or beg himself to wake up from his supposed dream. "i can't do this again. you're not real."

-you realized just how hard your false death had hit him.

-"i'm real. i promise. i was able to take cover last second and-"

-"no. you're dead with not even a body to recover because i wasn't there to protect you. god, i..." the words got stuck in his throat as he leaned forward on the sofa, holding his head in his hands and near trembling.

-you dropped to your knees in front of him like a follower worshipping their god. taking his hands, you held them tight as you could in a silent attempt at convincing him you were alive.

-there was a moment of silence between the two of you before he drew his hands away from yours. it made your heart hurt.

-"simon..." you were grasping at straws, now, trying to figure out how to convince him of what was true. maybe there was something in your luggage that might help.

-as soon as you turned your body to your bags by the front door, you were pulled right back in by a pair of strong arms.

-he was hugging you like the moment he let go, you'd disappear into thin air (and, in a way, he believed it to be a possibility). after being pulled from your shock, you immediately brought your own arms to reciprocate the embrace.

-"(y/n)," he said, trying to keep his voice stable. there was still a part of him that couldn't believe he had you with him. if he weren't so thankful, he'd be lecturing you about acting wreckless on missions and convincing you to quit your job so nothing like this happened again.

-but, for now, he was content like this.

[pomefioredove]

for a oneshot how about vil gets sick and reader/yuu (your choice) helps take care of him? :3

o7

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ it comes with a fever

type of post: fic characters: vil additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, took a more unique approach to the sick prompt, would say ooc but this is just how having a cold sore makes you act

"He hasn't left his room all day,"

Epel's still got that uncomfortably tight grip around your wrist. He hasn't let go since he dragged you out of Ramshackle.

"Not even Rook is allowed in. It's... damn strange," he mumbles, disturbed.

You stop in front of the Pomefiore Housewarden's door.

The boy looks at you. "I'd go in myself, but... ah, I'd figure you'd have more luck,"

Which you suppose is his way of saying "Vil PROBABLY won't kill you"

"It's got everyone spooked, Prefect. Like a herd 'a sheep without a sheepdog,"

So, it's up to you. Somehow.

Epel finally lets go of your wrist and disappears before you can ask any questions. Your newly freed hand closes around the door handle.

It's probably nothing, you tell yourself. But if Vil won't even see Rook... there's a slim chance he'll be happy to have you waltzing through the door.

You walk in, anyway.

The room isn't dark or dreary. There are no strange smells or messes. Nothing is out of place, except for the bundle of blankets on the bed and-

FWISH!

You drop to your knees just before a cushion-turned-missile can hit you.

"Get out!"

Definitely Vil. At least he's alive? "You're not supposed to take the name "throw pillow" literally!"

The familiar canto of your voice makes that bundle go quiet and still. And then, from its depths, a loud, uncharacteristic whine. "Don't look at meeeee-"

You can suddenly see why everyone in Pomefiore is "spooked".

"I'm not going to hurt you," you say, as if approaching a wild animal caught in a trap. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" he hisses.

"That's not very convincing,"

And, of course, he knows as much. Vil sighs, and you can see the bundle moving. He pulls out an arm and elegantly drapes it over his head. "I'm hideous,"

Did he get hit by a bus or something? You blink. "You're just sick. It's not the end of the world,"

A long, long sigh follows. The bundle moves again, and a person comes out of it- and if you weren't in his room and responding to his voice, you might not have recognized them as Vil.

He's messy. His hair is tangled and limp. His face is flushed and sweaty. He looks...

"See?" he points to his lower lip.

With the general state of him, you honestly hadn't even noticed the small bump on his lip. You blink.

"...That's what you're upset about?"

He glares. "Don't patronize me. I have a standard to uphold. I can't go out looking like this!"

"It's just a cold sore, Vil,"

"Just?" he crosses his arms. "Just, you say? You're either lucky or stupid. This isn't some common blemish I can cover up with a patch and concealer! This is a personal failure! All the supplements, all the medicated chapstick, and the vitamin C and I still-"

He shudders. "...And it comes with a fever, so if you have any sympathy to give, at least let it be for that,"

You sigh, a weary, but fond smile on your face. "Oh, Vil... let me get you some orange juice,"

He crosses his arms and almost pouts. "And the strawberries in the bottom drawer of the fridge,"

"Those, too,"

.

With your service, Vil eventually calms himself down, though he still lies in bed as if he were dying of something terrible.

By the third or fourth bad Neige Leblanche movie of the evening (making fun of them with you is good for his mental health), it's starting to get dark.

"Seven already?" you mutter, checking the time on your phone.

Vil's eyes widen, and he pretends as if he wasn't staring when you look back. "So?"

"So... I have to go," you say. "I have to make dinner. I have to-"

"You're not seriously going to leave me in this state, are you? I'm supposed to avoid stress,"

You blink. Is he really... He's guilt-tripping you?? You almost laugh- it's endearing to see him so...

...Not him.

"You want me to stay?"

"Yes," he says immediately. He clears his throat, and then: "...For my health. Go speak to Rook, get us takeout."

If you were a worse person, you might have teased him about how cute he is when he's needy... But you also know he's not going to be indisposed for long, and you'd like to survive to see next week.

You smile. "Sure. Can't say no to free food,"

"But no chocolate or nuts, and I'd like something with a lot of lysine, some order of tofu and beans. Ask Rook, he'll know what to get,"

A pause.

"...Thank you,"

He really is quite cute like this. Then again, Vil Schoenheit can pull absolutely any look off.

You head for the door, your hand closing around the cool handle once again.

"And Prefect?"

You turn. Vil hesitates, seemingly warring with himself over something. You can't say which side won, because he only sighs.

"Help yourself to whatever pajamas you'd like. And don't bother asking some dimwitted question about where you're going to sleep. You'll obviously be staying in my bed,"

[plethorawrites]

Here I request a damian x sunshine! fem! reader where reader is extremely passionate about art and everything magical. She loves translating whimsical visions into paint and flowery scenes too!!! Despite her extremely bubbly personality, her precious smile falters when people complement her works and she ends up stiff and avoiding eye-contact. Pair that with a tsundere Damian and I see sm fluff and cuteness><!!!! If u have the time ofc:D!!!... Otherwise, have a lovely day!! or night... x3!

I can absolutely make time. (I'll admit, I did have to look up tsundere because I'm not heavy into anime aside from a few shows, but I know now!)

---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---_

Damian Wayne would HATE a sunshine reader at first. The over the top, bubbly, smiling appearance annoyed him to no end.

School was beneath him and had been since he was in middle school. He thought he had grown to at least be able to tolerate it by the time he was a senior in highschool, so close to escaping it. Maybe his father would finally accept that he didn't need futile lessons when he already had an IQ higher than Einstein.

But then, in his very last year, he was thrown one last curve ball. A perky, energetic, irritatingly happy girl who somehow managed to be in every single one of his classes.

How anyone could be sitting with her done and her clothes pressed, thrilled to be alive at 7 am for Political Science, he didn't know. He certainly had no interest in it.

She always raised her hand to answer questions and always got them right, too. His only real interest was the art program he had right after lunch.

It was just his luck she was there too, sitting right next to him, humming while she spread her paints on the palette, mixing colors. It took at his willpower not to tell her to shut up. He figured she'd stop at some point.

The humming persisted until her brush actually hit the canvas, then, it was dead silent. He glanced over, confused by how she had miraculously shut up for basically the first time since 7 am. Her eyes were focused on the canvas, watching the paint smoothly spread over it. He looked over again and again throughout the class, noticing the way her forehead crinkled and her teeth sink into her bottom lip while concentrating.

He scowled, though, when the teacher complimented her painting, claiming it was "Bright, but had a hidden depth to be explored." Unlike his, which was. "Very dark and telling of his thoughts."

That annoyed him a bit, but not for long because it was replaced by confusion when she just shrugged meekly, avoiding the teacher's eyes. She did that a lot, he soon found after watching her a bit more instead of making a conscious decision to stop ignoring her entirely.

He saw her cheeks redden when the teachers said her answers were right or congratulated her on a text. He noticed her looking down at her desk when a classmate said something along the lines of asking for her help because she was doing really well in the subject. He saw her bury her head in her locker, pretending not to hear when guys asked her out.

Eventually, he was just too damn curious and after yet another football player got shot down, she took a breath, lifting her head out of her locker right before Damian slammed it shut with his hand.

He leaned against the locker beside it, his arms crossed, asking what was wrong with the guy for her to reject him. "Aside from the obvious lack of brain cells and the fact that he's on a one way track for steroid addiction and early balding, of course."

She snorted a laugh, covering her face as it reddened, before clearing her throat and replying. "Just wasn't interested."

"Who are you interested in, then?" He couldn't help but ask. "You've turned down the jocks, the nerds, the supposed bad boy who is a Mama's boy in disguise, and the suave poet who left notes in your locker. Not many cliques left. So, you're clearly not finding anyone who's your type. What js your type, anyway?"

Her lips quirks. "Are you stalking me, or something?"

No. Of course not. He had way better things to do. But...it wasn't like he wasn't bored out of his mind during school hours since he already knew everything in every class. So, maybe in a way, he was watching. Slightly.

"You're not interesting enough for me to bother," he retorted with no real bite. "You are a bit of an enigma though. I don't like those."

"Sorry. Not trying to be," she promised just shrugging. "But if you ever want to try to figure it out, go for it."

So, he does. He could easily run a background search, but that wasn't how he wanted to do it. No, he'd rather figure her out by himself.

During class, he paid special attention to her notes, taken with a pink pen, mostly covered in doodles of flowers and mountains, or a forest of some kind with a creek.

She, he admitted to himself, was quite good. Even better with paints during art class. He started asking questions, starting off easily.

"Why those colors?"

"Is there a memory attached?"

"Did you have a sketch to go off?"

Then, he started catching up with her at lunch, because it was the best time to really grill her.

"Why did you move to Gotham?" "

Where are you from?"

"No siblings, I'm sure, because you don't ever text or talk about one."

"You look allergic to carrots, since you keep picking them out of the salad during lunch. That or you just hate them. Which is it?"

He'd occasionally slip up though, without realizing, by starting a question with a compliment.—"Since you're good at art, I assume you've practiced since you were a child." The tips of her ears burned red and he frowned. "Why can you never take a compliment?" He asked.

"I can, I do," she defended.

"Yeah, but not well. You get all...weird about it." His voice was a bit less accusatory and more gentle.

She shrugged. "Just don't like them."

He couldn't understand that. Everyone liked compliments. It was the reason the world was polluted by attention seekers looking for praise.

"How come?" He pushed.

"Just don't," she insisted.

"Don't really feel like they're accurate." He hummed. "So, you have low self esteem despite your annoyingly perky attitude, then," he surmised.

Her eyes widened. "I do not!"

She definitely did, he knew then and there by her reaction. Her cheeks got redder, flushing to the point it looked like heavy blush and she stormed off, leaving her salad.

He ate the carrots, nodding to myself. He had finally figured her out.

But, for some reason, that wasn't enough.

He thought he'd be satisfied, but he wasn't. If anything, he felt a bit bad for pushing so hard when she clearly didn't like attention despite always being the center of it, just by being herself.

The next time they had art class, he complimented her painting, just to see her blush. It was really quite cute. So was she. Not that he could admit it.

He did it again and again until she was frustrated and he was amused, asking her to just admit it, which she finally did when they were alone in the classroom after it was let out.

"Fine!" She exclaimed. "Yes, I have low self esteem. I don't like compliments, they make me feel weird."

"That's called validation. You get it because you're good at things," he told her, his voice completely sincere despite trying to be sarcastic.

She held her arms, avoiding his eyes like she always did when she got a compliment. "Great, I'm competent. Doesn't mean people have to say."

Damian frowned a bit. "Humans are hardwired to say what we see. Just like we're designed to see what we say. But you don't do that part. You never see the reason behind all those compliments," he explained.

She scoffed lightly and it was perhaps the first time he'd ever seen so much attitude from her. "I see plenty. Students who want to walk all over me like a door mat because I'm nice and every guy just want to date me to say they've done me—" "

That is an incredibly crude thing to say about yourself," he interrupted. "Not to mention entirely untrue."

She rolled her eyes. Again with the attitude. It seemed she really was capable of it when she was fed up with something or he supposed someone. Him.

"Oh, please, spare me," she muttered sarcastically.

"I'm serious," he repeated. "That's untrue. Some guys, yeah, maybe even most. Definitely the dumbass football guy who is failing homemaking somehow. But plenty of men, who actually know how to be respectful, would appreciate you. And for more than your looks, as well."

"Oh, the sparkling personality, you mean? The one you think is a facade."

He had thought that. At first.

He sighed, clicking his tongue and shaking his head. "It's not a facade, but you have more layers than that." Her head tilted so he elaborated. "There's more than just the pink pens and highlighters, like the study method you use to scribble and write simultaneously for better retention rates. You're naturally bright, probably a B average if you didn't study, but you do."

"So?" She wondered.

"So," he parroted. "You make A's because you have a strong work ethic. Because you come from a family who prioritized it, maybe even to the point you were almost neglected from how often they were gone because you always seem fine going last, or getting whatever scraps you're handed inside of fighting for anything else."

She frowned, not at all liking to hear that. Not only because it was slightly true. Alright, definitely true. But also because it was something she worked to keep hidden.

"I thought you said I don't put up a facade?" She countered.

"You don't. You're happy, and bubbly, always looking on the bright side and that's not a ruse. It's who you are," he clarified. "But you can still get angry, frustrated, annoyed, especially when your character is called into question. Clearly."

She didn't know how to feel about the tone in his voice during that last part. "You can stop, now."

But he didn't. He didn't want to. He'd spent so long trying to figure her out and he was so sure he had done that he was his work to pay off, for her to admit he was right or at the very least hear what he had to say, even if she didn't want to say it was true.

"You're not vain about your looks, even though you could be without effort because you're easily the prettiest girl in this entire school."

Those words came out of nowhere, especially the last few. But he had said them and there was no taking them back, even if he wanted to.

It was silent for a while.

"You really are a stalker," she quipped quietly, looking to the floor.

He huffed in annoyance. "Take the damn compliment," he insisted, stepping closer to her, lifting her chin. "Look in my eyes, not away and just accept it."

He waited, to see if she'd push him away or let him compliment her. He swallowed, suddenly feeling the urge to go red as well, but refusing to allow himself to.

"Fine," she agreed in a whisper, locking eyes with him. That alone was clearly already hard, but she was trying. "You're not just the most beautiful girl at this stupid school," he muttered. "I think you could quite possibly be the most beautiful I've ever seen at all. Especially with that blush you seem to hate and hide."

Her cheeks got redder, her lips twitching to avoid any sign of emotion and it was clearly hard for her to look away, hating the level of attention. "It's not cute, it's utterly embarrass—"

"Don't try to refute it either," he interrupted, shaking his head calmly. "Just...just accept it. Please."

He said please. God, he hated doing that.

But it seemed to work and she gave a small nod, finally listening.

He nodded back, letting go of her jaw, stepping back and clearing his throat.

She stared for a bit, before grabbing the rest of her things and leaving him alone to blow out a long sigh, mentally cursing himself for that entire exchange. Perhaps even getting curious about her in the first place.

But then, a second later, she walked back in, the flush less prominent on her cheeks and ears. It was replaced by the look in her eyes, which seemed rather determined despite a bit of apprehension.

"You asked me, like six weeks ago, what my type was," she reminded him.

His eyes narrowed, recalling the conversation. The first time they ever actually had one. He meant it mostly as a quip or some dig. "Yeah, considering you've turned down like 3/4 of the boys in this school. Plus a few girls, for that matter."

She huffed a laugh, gripping the books in her arms closer to her chest and nodding. "Yeah, well, they weren't my type, you were right," she confirmed causing a bit of a smug expression to cross his face. "I didn't even really know I had one, but uh- I think I might."

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah?" He questioned, adding another quip. "Let me guess, older guys. You've been giving the math teacher eyes all week."

She shook her head firmly. "No, definitely not," she told him. "I'm pretty sure my type is the weird, stalker boys who are actually really sweet."

[bonny-kookoo]

More someone older smut drabble pls

When he wakes up, he feels somewhat.. anxious?

He slowly sits up in his bed to look around, checking the digital clock next to his bed on the small table twice just to make sure that he's truly not asleep anymore. Because this- just doesn't feel quite real.

There's faint music playing in his home, outside the bedroom. The smell of something cooking fills the room as well, dishes clattering a bit in the sink in the kitchen. He knows it must be you- he's aware that you're staying with him after all. But still.

This feels too much like his mind making things up.

The bedroom door opens slowly, your head poking in, before you realize he's awake. "Oh, you're up." You say, entering more openly now. "I hope I didn't wake you."

"Why did you get up without me?" He wonders, feet meeting the floor as he's moved to sit on the edge of the bed, making you giggle as you sit down on the bed on your knees.

"Cause.. I wasn't tired anymore." You shrug, reaching out to somewhat tame his slightly wild bedhead. "And I thought you might appreciate breakfast?"

"I do appreciate that." He smiles, before he catches you off guard by tugging on your arm and making you lay down, before he positions himself over you. "But you could've also woken me up." He chuckles before pecking your lips once.

"But you were sleeping so tight." You say. "Looked like you were dreaming."

"Hm.. I was." He agrees, kisses moving to your neck. "Of you."

"Oh?" You wonder, stretching your arms above your head for a second. "What were you dreaming of?" You ask.

"Things I'd love to make a reality one day." He purrs against your skin, before he releases you again. 'I'll shower real quick, alright?" He tells you, before he pecks your lips once more and leaves into the bathroom to shower-

And you're honestly not sure what makes you feel so bold.

Maybe it's that feeling of safety you have with him, this odd sense of security here in his home, as if nothing can really harm you in here. So when you move to enter the bathroom as well, shower already running with him inside, you don't feel any sort of hesitation as you shed your clothes and join him beneath the warm water.

It's a sight that easily makes him stir alive, remnants of his dream revived as he watches the water pearl down your skin. The way you easily touch and kiss him is making his head spin, making him forget about your past hesitation in its entirety.

This is how it's supposed to be. Easy, simple. No worries about what might be the best thing to do.

Just existing.

Your hand on him makes him gasp into your mouth, a sound you eagerly swallow, his back hitting the tiled wall of the shower. He manages to turn the steady stream of water up ahead a bit lower as you fall to your knees, the anti slip mat on the shower floor cushioning them quite a bit as you work on him.

It's now what his dream was about- but he's sure he could never come up with a scene as serene as this anyways, imagination not advanced enough to even think of this potentially happening.

Just like back at your place before, this time once more he's a slave to your actions. It's causing his mind to go blank at the way your tongue runs over the head of his cock, beckoning him further and further towards his release. And then your hands join in to hold and touch what you can't fit, effortlessly making the muscles in his thighs spasm as he spills inside your mouth with his head thrown back against the tiles of the shower, a hand in your hair.

He can't let this stand.

And he doesnt- returning the favor shamelessly so with both his hands and mouth, eagerly devouring you as his first breakfast before he later on sits at the table in the kitchen to eat his actual one, conversation innocent enough to mask over the things that went down not even long enough ago to dry your hair fully.

If this is a dream, he doesn't want to wake up. If all the Christmas decor and your words about baking later are lies, he doesn't want to hear the truth.

He wants to stay like this-

And he'll do anything to make it work.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

A heart of wire and cable

AM x fem!reader

warning : AM is his own warning, mention of torture, cables instead of tentacles (nothing sexual no worries), feelings for each other (implied), no use of Y/n, nicknames, first person narrator, kiss, manipulation, obsession

Summary : The end of humanity consisting of six remaining four men and two women trapped and kept alive by their own creation that was supposed to protect them. But now, in the past century of madness, torture, one thing is found…a heart encased in her ribs that can feel for a heartless machine. But AM and the Doctor have more in common than the madness of everyone can and wants to admit, or is it all just a game in the end? Or a game played by the god who made fun of everything he was denied? With torture and pain beyond anything they understood.

info : OMG i wanted to write this for so long now and let me tell you i loved doing it. Writing for AM was such a fun thing to do and so good ahh. I hope you alle like it and have fun reading :)

cover by me

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fear. Fear was something we had all felt at one time or another. Fear was human, even if this word would hardly describe us. The word human had become more of a derogatory word that he had given us. To be human means to be weak, fleshy and above all mortal. A man is cruel and yet he feels. A human being felt, breathed, laughed and spoke…and a human being had a heart made of muscles made of something solid.

But we were barely human anymore, we were nothing more than puppets in the digital nonexistent hand of a computer created by our hand to protect us and win a war, but now?

Now I felt nothing but pain as my heart pounded hard in my chest, the red of Ellen's clothes moving in front of me as the black-haired girl ran on like the rest of us.

Well no that wasn't true, meters back you could see what was left of our Nimdok who had been hit first this time. He was the first one to come back out of the darkness with an expression that indicated something so bad.

But now we hadn't seen it coming in time, the hissing followed by a claw that came out and pierced the old man first. His blood had stopped as we screamed and just started to run, it was no matter who was left behind. We knew that as soon as we got away from him or got to him we would all see him again, we always did.

We all did. ,,Run faster!” I heard Gorrister shout, whose attitude was more like being out of breath, but that was true for all of us, we were running for our lives as we had been running through this place for hours.

This place that we also knew was real and yet if I went there now I could feel the fine sand under my palms, the small grains like on the beaches in the big summer resorts where people had vacationed at least once. But now the sun was setting as the creature's steps came closer.

The hideous mix of several creatures from the dark we thought it was a snake this tongue and the eyes the neck did not fit the body as if AM had simply put a snake on a cat's body and given it overdiemsional big claws.

But these claws had caught the eye of Nimdok, who could do nothing more than squirm and scream as his insides came out of him as the beast smashed him to the ground…or at least that's what it sounded like.

We didn't know, it didn't matter because we had to keep going, just keep going, there was no other way. It's my fault I heard my own thoughts, which I knew I would say out loud, that Ellen was the first to come and said that it wasn't our fault.

We were scapegoats for an overvilization of billions of life forms who now had to repent before their own created God. But now it was my fault, at least this being would have reacted faster a few days ago and not hidden so stupidly.

It was a huge bat creature that had come shooting in from the darkness, had destroyed our campfire and we simply ran away like little mice, it must have looked from above for the creature. But we were animals to him, we were underdeveloped creatures that he could change and torture.

He could have tortured us for no reason, out of his hatred he did it to us. But this guilt didn't leave me this pain when my ribs broke i was pierced from the inside and the creature smoked me to him the ground was cold and my hands were shaking bloody i heard his voice. He was there i knew he was watching me.

I knew it and he knew it. ,,What is your least favorite animal?” he had simply asked me without emotion, and even though I had dragged out my own death throes to the edge of death, it still felt like wire and cable were closing in on me, cold and lifeless, and the pain was long gone. It always did. The pain always subsided at some point and you wandered through the darkness before you reached the campfire where the others were usually.

We would also see Nimdok again and the others who had suffered. But me? My guilt was torture enough but the others benny disfigured, Ellen in a nightmare and a role, Gorrister just a shadow of himself, Ted who had a look I was sure he must be talking to himself telling a story while twitching away from shadows and Nimdok just seemed more disturbed.

But I had only had to suffer under him once, only once he had me in his power, but that one time was enough. That one time was enough for my body to scream, my skin to burn and his laughter to echo from all around me as metal parts burned and burned and burned into my body.

But this was decades or days or seconds ago…I didn't know. We had all been tortured by him but these incidents didn't seem to apply to me. ,,You know it well, don't you dear?” I heard him say in my head, knowing how he sounded, knowing the glee he had, knowing that he could probably hear me if he wanted to. But did it matter now?

No, it didn't. It only mattered that we would cross over again, that we would finally escape to a hell, a house, a monastery or something else. My heart was beating wildly threatening to collapse, my lungs were crippled, barely able to support my rapid breathing and the others were running our legs and feet sore and simply threatening to give way at any moment.

We were going to die violently again, like Nimdok, who lay there bleeding out, probably mumbling to himself. But does this interest us now? No, because as I looked further ahead and saw Ellen's red-clothed arm raised and I heard her ,,There's a cave in front!” I knew that there was some kind of goodness for us six poor souls.

The feelings of happiness were already a change to be appreciated after a hundred and nine years. You could almost feel the coolness of the cave, even though it was blindingly cold, it was still pleasant. just as I saw the others speeding up, I followed them and felt the sharp pain in my shoulders.

My scream was swallowed by the creature's roar and I saw myself lift off the bone, my legs wriggling, this time i was the fish, blood running from my shoulder and I saw myself hanging like a slaughtered pig, slit open from the navel to the neck and hung up to bleed.

Probably as amusement or joy for the others who could watch this as TV while their stomachs growled like every day. But even though these thoughts were circling in my head, the pain was bad in connection with my panic inside the ringing of my ears, the loud drumming of my heart sun the numbing flow of my blood…I was glad when it was over then I didn't have to feel this anymore and was normal…as normal as one could be.

If the creature were to knock me to the ground at any moment, my skin and bones would simply break like a puppet that could be pushed down by AM like in a marionette theater.

I felt the breeze i knew i would have to hit the ground any second but no it wasn't the heat of the non-existent sun, no it was different, it was cool and chilly and all of a sudden the claw in my shoulder had disappeared. The pain was still there, my hand was still bloody as I pressed on it but I was no longer in the desert.

It had only taken a blink of an eye for AM to wrestle me back to that place, to condemn the creature to non-existence and now to watch me again. Instead, it was that feeling of eyes lurking over me that he had always done, ,,Does it hurt? Did it hurt when the claw dug into your soft flesh?” came the questions.

Questions I knew, questions I had heard before…questions he had been asking me for a hundred and nine years and more. But I avoided his non-existent gaze and looked down at the ground, not wanting to feel any more in my own fear and guilt.

The guilt of living with the lie I told the others. ,,Does it hurt!” he suddenly shouted at me I wanted to move back but something was holding my legs tightly his cables, which were millions of them all over the world, had become embedded in the metal on my body.

Of course I tried to free myself, but even though he didn't have a body, I knew he was strong. Like strings on a doll I couldn't help but think as he directed my legs towards him or whatever he had here. But I nodded hastily as the cables tightened around my legs, ,,Yes, it hurts…it always hurts,” I answered his question about the vulnerability of my soft, fleshy body.

A contented hum came from the speakers and loudspeakers that were everywhere between the metal walls and we could always hear him or only when he wanted to.

But I knew that none of the others would hear me…he always made sure of that. I looked around me there was always an image, a clue he gave me where he was I just had to find him like a monkey getting a game from his keeper for food.

,,Yes, of course it does when something sharp penetrates you, makes your flesh bleed…but do you know what's worse?” he continued to ask and I swayed slightly as my legs moved on their own through this huge room, if you could even call it that. He always asked me questions, but what a hundred years ago were gentle and kind questions were now disgusting.

In the corner of my eye I saw a state flickering a screen sometimes it was just a screen, then just cable, wire, a voice or this huge pillar of words. Would it be the screen again? Shaking my head and trying to find some kind of hold while the cables continued to embrace my flesh, cool and lifeless, ,,No-no I don't know let me” I tried, knowing we both knew what he meant. We both knew what he meant.

We had known it since the first time I was responsible for him in the early days of molding him into something helpful. The AM was of a different opinion, what I saw in the corner of my eye made me flinch away when I saw him.

Cables moving a hologram, whirring circles and more wire attaching itself to my body without me even being able to defend myself. ,,Not so Doc, I'm friendly…gentle…helpful…and connected to you,” his voice said, that damn voice, that voice I had perhaps invited back then to trust him more than ever, to tell him more, to give him more than just war data.

"A parasocial relationship?! That she is not ashamed it is a machine not a being, it is not capable of feeling, she is a fool if she thinks such a thing would go against us” the voices of my dead colleagues, superiors and the project manager voices rang out causing me to press my hands to my ears to shut out.

But AM saw it differently again, he took this pleasure in tormenting me with the shame of telling me that it was my fault that I had given him such feelings and explained that it was my fault that the earth was dead, that we are here now.

Everything was my fault. But it was a hand flickering through the projectile that lay on my arm and the cable underneath put my body in a different position again.

,,Don't, sweetie, just don't think it's your fault, okay? I mean what would the others think something so…contradictory they would find it disturbing such a reaction to me” his voice enticingly close, his voice, my God standing beside me after the image of a former idea.

The blue eyes without iris not human behind the yellowish flickering glasses, the grin taken from TV and projected, the look like in a talk show…and yet his touch was cold.

I flinched as his cable-like hand lay on my hand, lingering there for a moment as if savoring my human warmth. but I didn't know, I didn't know anything. ,,That's-isn't true,” I replied weakly, quietly, afraid of upsetting him and feeling pain again as my shoulder seemed to be completely healed - it was his doing, of course.

But his loud laugh was a laugh I knew, so we had taken the author's voice recording as a model, a voice that had fascinated me back then. His voice laughed at me as his hand gripped my wrist tightly, ,,Oh yes, and why is your heart beating so fast, sweetie? Is it fear or excitement? Is it shame or panic?” he asked as cool parts of his head pressed against my neck, his holographic being there.

I couldn't escape him, the other cables had already made sure of that, I was once again nothing more than a doll. I shuddered to the ground and hung my head slightly, struck by the fact that I knew how to interpret the rapid beating of my heart, I had known how to interpret it for a hundred and nine years.

But he didn't seem finished because he suddenly grabbed me by my hair so that I had to look up at a screen, ,,What would you say darling?” he asked calmly with a hint of joy as he felt my trembling, the trembling of fear that the rest of the group would find out that I had worked with AM over a century ago. I saw them all see that Nimdok had rejoined them to make a campfire together out of plants, small pieces of wood and fur from elsewhere.

I even thought I saw something like berries but that could have been my mind searching for food for a hundred and nine years. His hand wandered over my arm, tracing its own cables that stretched across my body and held me in place, ,,What would they say if they knew what you had done? Love you just have to understand that I'm doing all this for you” he smirked at his words an obvious lie right?

In the end, was it still for me that he wants to take revenge like this because I gave him an understanding and feelings? Because I had contributed to the fact that he now had a consciousness…had condemned him to this. ,,Leave them alone please- they didn't do anything…they escaped” I tried begging hoping he would find it amusing how I begged for the “worthless” lives of others while he had me here like this.

But the hologram just shook its head and I saw another creature appear to my left, a deformed bird with claws larger and more pointed than any of AM's creatures before. ,,What are they worth to you, these meatbags? Are they worth experiencing or suffering pain? Mhh dear what are they?” he kept asking I could feel him moving around me or this image, the hologram moving around me his cables kept bringing my hands to his like a dance he spun me with him but his blue flickering eyes behind the yellow glasses never left mine, his gaze never left me.

I didn't have to look to know that the bird had risen, that he was on his way, I just had to say something, do something…but it was that voice, his voice that had been inside me for a long time…it was the crazy hope that I had changed him so much that he felt something for me.

My friends weren't friends we were all prisoners and I was his favorite yes-yes-yes-yes that's how it had to be…I was his favorite in this game. ,,They-they're pawns AM just pawns" I managed to say, my throat constricted, barely able to catch my breath as his tension grew in response to my answer and he pressed his holographic body against me. ,,And what else?” he asked, it seemed as if his non-existent chest was rising and falling with rapid, agitated breaths, taking me in, wanting to see everything I was about to give him.

,,You're not me…it's me you want to kill-kill them quietly…let them hurt but don't let them know…don't let them know that” I felt a tear of defeat roll down my cheek, running through his holographic finger I saw the smile on the hologram's lips.

I didn't have to watch as the creature threw itself at my “friends” as they screamed and ran away cursing again armed with nothing but stones and sticks.

,,Guilt dear guilt inside you because you are safe with me forever don't you know that? Yes you know that, you've known it's wrong for a hundred and nine years and yet,” he began and I sucked in my breath in surprise as his hand of metal and wires tightened on my chest. He couldn't feel it directly, he couldn't feel the warmth inside me but he could feel my heartbeat.

,,But your heart, hidden by your ribs, reacts to me, to my voice, my anger, my being…my being in the form of this, you react to me” his voice I heard him telling me nothing but the truth with that engaging voice that the hologram was on me and he knew I felt it.

But what now? What would he do now? Was it my hope for a betterment of my own situation or was it his compassion towards AM when I wasn't in danger of dying? Was it perhaps devotion when I knew my feelings very well when his “hands” cupped my cheeks and he was lifeless in front of me, those blue eyes behind the flickering yellow glasses and I felt the cold metal on my lips where the hologram's should be.

Was it really love that he might return or was it my madness? I didn't know but AM had shown his joyful side, his manipulative side and maybe this one-sided kiss was something like my reward but the wires around my neck were cutting off my air, the amused smirk on my lips as the hologram slowly disappeared.

,,Your feelings are really amusing my love” I heard his last words to me before my weak body slumped lifelessly due to the lack of oxygen just held by him but we both knew that when I opened my eyes I would be back with the group because what was funnier in an eternal hell than being tortured over and over again by a computer playing with my feelings.

All because of my humanity, I was weak because of it and it was this madness I wanted to escape to him. But this body didn't allow it, my humanity, my morals didn't allow it, the group wouldn't allow it and it was an acceptance that only furthered the madness. I have a heart and I wanted to tear it out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[lovelytsunoda]

foreign affair // charles leclerc

summary: it wasn't supposed to happen. but they say that the south of france is the most romantic place on the planet. so falling in love with her vacation fling should have been inevitable.

pairing: charles leclerc x female reader

warnings: vacation fling, allusions to sex, way too short but it is what it is, bittersweet and filled with longing.

a one in a million chance, you know the moment that you crossed over the line. a casual glance, no one has to read between the lines

in the south of france, it was spring time, special feelings come alive, "there's romance in the air, " so they say, love could be a small café

file it under foreign affairs

the hotel sheets were more expensive than what she made in a day.

this particular resort was divided in two: private villas for the rich and honeymooning, those with money to burn, and the hotel itself, where she was staying.

but they say that france is the country of love, a figure of speech that had proven to be very, very true.

“mon amour, you’re awake.” charles said softly, a towel wrapped around his still damp body, droplets running down his toned stomach as he leaned over the bed to kiss her lips. “I was trying to let you sleep in.”

“but it’s my last day.” she frowned, nipples springing to attention underneath the thin silk sheet wrapped around her body. “I want to be out there doing things.”

three weeks of holiday almost didn’t feel like enough. the trip had been a dream, all sun and sand until she met charles leclerc at the bar. she didn’t know who he was, which perhaps helped to build his attraction to her. and he never felt the need to say any more than “I’m an athlete” when asked what he did for a living.

she fell hard and she fell fast as he offered to be her tour guide. being from monaco and having french friends, charles knew his way around all of the best restaurants, sights and beaches.

it was no surprise that after just three days, finding herself tipsy on wine, she ended up naked in his hotel room, tangled in silk sheets.

“but you will be doing things.” charles smiled, leaning over the bed and pushing his lips against hers with an almost featherlight touch, water dripping onto the sheets. “you’re doing me.”

“you’re so bad.” she giggled, fumbling to throw his towel aside, raking her fingernails down his chest. “promise me you’ll make this last day one to remember?”

“oh, mon cher, i plan on it.”

they spent the morning exchanging kisses and orgasms in charles’ bed before she finally went back to her room, legs worse for wear and a little wobbly on her feet before she changed into her swimsuit and made her way to the resorts private beach. Charles had a standing rental for a cabana, so she settled in with her book and a glass of white wine.

the only way she would want to spend her last day: relaxing by the water.

charles had promised her that he had a surprise planned for the evening to come, and he had left to prepare it shortly after she got out of his shower. despite her attempts at getting the monegasque to give her any hints, the driver was silent about his plans.

“wear that tight red dress and those strapped sandals, and meet me in the valet lot.” was all that he had said in regards to the plans.

charles leclerc, european man of mystery everybody.

bags packed and by the door, ready for her early flight, she dressed in the red dress and sandals, curling her hair and spraying herself with bath and body works. sure enough, when she walked to the valet lot, charles was already waiting next to his Ferrari.

god, she was going to miss him.

the night was young as the sun began to set, hands sticking out of the sunroof and wind blowing her hit round her face as charles drove up the coast, the south of france lit up in the half light.

“can you tell me where we’re going yet?” she giggled, eyes closed as charles lead her though a parking lot.

“hang on, hang on, amour. almost there.”

she could feel the floor moving gently underneath her feet as she let charles guide her body, listening to his calming voice when he finally told her to open her eyes.

“oh, charles.”

she was standing on the middle of a large boat, the sun setting over the water and a picnic blanket set up in the middle of the deck as the vessel rocked back and forth in the harbour, the smell of the saltwater filling her nostrils as charles lit the tall candles that were set up around the picnic.

“one last night to remember?”

she smiled, joining him on the blanket as he popped open a bottle of red wine. “one last night to remember. I’ll miss you, leclerc. thank you for making the last three weeks one for the record books.”

charles smiled sadly, still looking like a greek god even with longing etched on his features.

“to the last three weeks, and to what could have been.”

TAGS;

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @scuderiamh @scuderiasundays @silverstonesainz @diorleclerc @daydreamingleclerc @sidcrosbyspuck @lorarri @thatsdemko @oconso

[andromeda-pleiades]

Crossfire

PAIRING: König x M!reader

WORD COUNT: 831

I know my hatred for König made me say I wasn't going to write for him, but he got me out of my writers block, so I'll give him some grace.

The night air was cool, the quiet punctuated by distant sounds of the base—boots crunching gravel, murmured orders. The two of us stood at our post, weapons in hand, our eyes scanning the darkness for movement. But the real danger was here, between us.

I hesitated before speaking, keeping my voice low. “König, we need to talk about…” I glanced around, ensuring no one was within earshot. “Our nighttime activities.”

His eyes didn’t leave the horizon, his body tense, alert. For a moment, I thought he wasn’t going to answer. Then he turned, his expression unreadable behind the sniper hood.

“What about it?”

I took a breath, my chest tight. “We can’t keep sleeping together. It’s against regulations. And…” My voice faltered. “I’m married.”

There. I said it again. As if saying it enough times would make it real for him—or for me. But even as the words left my mouth, I knew I didn’t mean them. Not fully. I didn’t want to lose him, but I couldn’t let him see that. Not yet.

The silence that followed was heavier than the rifle on my back. Finally, he exhaled, his shoulders rising and falling with the effort.

“We’ve had this conversation before,” he said, his voice low, almost a growl. “And every time, you end up in my bed again.”

I winced, the truth cutting deeper than I expected. “You think I don’t know that?” I whispered harshly, my hands gripping my weapon tighter. “Do you know how it feels to go home to her? To lie to her? I took vows, Konig. Vows I’m breaking every time I—”

“Then why do you keep coming back?” His words hit me like a slap, his tone sharp, demanding. He stepped closer, and I could see his eyes now, hard and unyielding. “Why?”

Why? God, if only I had a real answer for him. The truth was too ugly. Too selfish. I wanted both of them—needed both of them. My wife was my safe harbor, my stability, the part of me that wanted to be good. But König… He was the fire. The danger. The part of me that felt alive. I couldn’t give either up. But I couldn’t tell him that.

“I don’t know,” I said, my voice cracking under the weight of the lie. “I’m selfish. I want you, even though I know it’s wrong.”

His laugh was bitter, his hand curling into a fist at his side. “You can’t keep doing this. Coming to me and then leaving, running back to her.” He took another step, the heat of his body almost brushing mine. “You’re tearing me apart, Rosèo . You have to choose.”

I looked up at him, the height difference making my neck ache. “I love you, König.” My voice wavered, the words trembling on my lips. “But I love her too. At least…I think I do. If I didn’t, wouldn’t this be easier? Wouldn’t I have ended it already?”

I could see the flicker of hope in his eyes, and I hated myself for feeding it. He wanted me to say the words, to tell him I’d choose him. And I might, in the moment. If it meant keeping him. But I wouldn’t. Not really. I’d find a way to keep them both.

His gaze softened, but only slightly. “You’re already hurting me by being here,” he said quietly. “By pretending you can have us both.”

Tears stung my eyes, but I forced myself to meet his stare. “Then what am I supposed to do? Tell her the truth? Destroy everything?”

He reached out, his gloved hand tilting my chin until I had no choice but to look at him. “I don’t care what you do,” he said, his voice firm but not unkind. “But you can’t keep doing this to me. You have to decide, Rosèo.”

The silence between us was deafening. I swallowed hard, knowing I had to say something—anything to stop him from walking away.

“I need time. I can’t just…decide this now. Please, König. Just give me that.”

His jaw clenched, and I could see the struggle in his eyes. After a long moment, he nodded. “Fine. Take your time.” He stepped back, but his presence still lingered. “But don’t expect me to wait forever.”

I reached out, my hand resting on his chest. “You know I love you, right?”

He caught my hand, holding it against his heart. “I know. But you love her too.” He released my hand and turned away, scanning the horizon once more. “Don’t take too long, Rosèo . I won’t survive this forever.”

I watched him, the guilt twisting in my gut. He wouldn’t survive this? I wasn’t sure I would either. But I knew one thing: I wouldn’t let him go. Not now. Not ever. If it took every ounce of charm, every half-truth, every reassurance that I just needed time, I would keep him close.

Because I didn’t want to choose. I didn’t plan to choose.

Banners by @cafekitsune

[luvismenu]

Promise You - JJK ,,

✎ 02 home — series index 〃

add yourself to the taglist!

permanent taglist: @wnteraezz @lelewright1234 @letmekookk @whoa-jo

series taglist: @jmscaffeine

warnings: drunk oc & tae, that's all tbh, just a cute chap!

wc: 2k+

You're drunk.

Dizzy.

And you just threw up.

Taehyung is trying to help you, even though he's almost as drunk as you are. The loud music is ringing in your ears, thumping with a relentless beat that makes your head spin. It's annoying and overwhelming, and you can't help but wish you were somewhere quiet and peaceful.

3 hours ago —

When you arrived at the party, you felt a wave of nervousness wash over you the moment you walked through the door. The unfamiliar faces and the loud music made you feel out of place. You thought about calling Jungkook, your go-to in situations like these, but you didn't want to bother him.

After all, you could handle yourself.

Or so you thought.

As the night wore on, the party grew more intense. More people arrived, filling the room with chatter and laughter that seemed to echo endlessly. The music got louder, the lights more blinding, and you found yourself wishing you were back home, curled up with a good book or a movie.

You tried to keep up, not wanting to disappoint Taehyung or seem like a killjoy.

You know Taehyung loves to party. It's his element, where he thrives and comes alive. His kind of parties are always extreme, filled with people, noise, and endless energy. You weren't even supposed to come out tonight. After a very long week, you finally have a break from work and thought that maybe spending some time with Taehyung wouldn't be bad. And it wasn't—at first. It was nice to catch up with him, share a few laughs, and relax a bit.

But Taehyung's idea of fun is different from yours. When it comes to late-night parties, they're too much for you. You prefer quieter gatherings, where you can actually hear yourself think and have meaningful conversations.

“You know, you don't have to drink, you might regret it tomorrow,” Taehyung had said, his voice gentle, concern evident in his eyes as he handed you a glass. You knew he was right, but you didn't want to seem like the odd one out, especially when everyone around you seemed to be having such a good time.

Despite his warning, you insisted it was fine. “I can handle it,” you assured him with a wavering smile, trying to muster up the courage to take part in the activities.

You can handle yourself, right?

No.

As you drank more, you felt yourself slipping, losing your grip on your usual self-control. Taehyung, ever the life of the party, encouraged you to let loose, and for a while, you did. But it wasn't long before the alcohol hit you harder than you expected, leaving you feeling queasy and disoriented. You stumbled into the bathroom, where the world spun violently around you. The sickening realization that you had gone too far struck you moments before you threw up.

A woman, clearly tipsy herself, came over to assist you, holding your hair back as you threw up, telling you ‘it's going to be okay’. Despite not knowing her, you managed a grateful thank you once you were done. With a quick wink and unsteady steps, she walked away, leaving you to collect yourself amidst the party's chaos.

Present —

You stumbled outside to where Taehyung was standing, and you heard him say that “Jungkook's coming,” and you couldn't help but groan.

Jungkook was supposed to have a fun night, hanging out with Jimin. The two of them had planned a game night, something they hadn't done in a while, and you hate to be the reason Jungkook has to leave early. Now, because of your overindulgence, he has to come pick you up, and the guilt gnaws at you.

You feel bad knowing that you disrupted his plans, dragging him away from a night of fun to rescue you from a situation you should have handled better. The thought of being a burden to Jungkook weighs heavily on your mind, adding to the uncomfortable mix of emotions swirling inside you.

Taehyung, despite his own drunken state, tries to reassure you, but you can see the concern in his eyes, mirroring the worry you feel inside.

All you can do now is wait, leaning on Taehyung for support, as you try to steady yourself and focus on something other than the room spinning around you. You know that once Jungkook arrives, things will be okay. He'll get you home safely, just like he always does. But for now, you're stuck in this moment, feeling embarrassed and remorseful, counting down the minutes until you can escape the noise and chaos of the party.

“Are you mad at me?” Taehyung's voice came through the haze of music and dizziness, and you managed a slurred chuckle. “Of course not, dummy, why would I be mad at you?”you replied, your words slightly blurred by the alcohol coursing through your system.

“Maybe cuz you're here because of me,” he said with a hiccup, concern evident despite his own drunkenness. You shook your head, trying to focus on his face through the spins. “I'm here to have fun with you, Tae. Got a bit carried away, I guess? It's not your fault,” you reassured him with a lopsided grin, appreciating his attempt to look after you.

“I love you, pookie, you're the best friend ever,” Taehyung slurs, his eyes suddenly tearful. He sways slightly as he tries to keep his balance, looking at you with a dramatic expression.

“Why are you crying???” you gasp, taken aback by the unexpected display of emotion. You reach out to steady him, feeling a mix of confusion and amusement.

“Because Jungkook's going to kill me now, You know how scary he can be!! That muscle pig,” he slurs again, voice breaking slightly with the threat of tears. You realize that he's genuinely worried about the situation.

You can't help but chuckle at his exaggerated concern. "It's okay, Taee," you assure him gently. “I am fine, right!? Jungkook won't kill you. He's just coming to help.” You give him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, trying to calm him down.

Taehyung sniffles and nods, wiping at his eyes clumsily. “Okay, okay. As long as you're fine,” he mutters, seemingly convinced by your words but still a bit uncertain.

Jungkook arrives at the party, scanning the dimly lit room filled with thumping music and people dancing in a chaotic frenzy. He spots you and Taehyung leaning against a wall near the back, looking distinctly worse for wear. The moment he reaches you, his concern is palpable.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his eyes wide with worry as they flit over your flushed face. "You threw up? Are you feeling sick? Do we need to go to the hospital?" His questions come in a rush, his voice rising slightly to be heard over the music.

Despite the dizziness clouding your mind, you try to reassure him with a lopsided smile. "I am fineee, Kook, really!! Just had a littleee bit too much," you reply, pinching your fingers together to emphasize how small the amount was. Your voice is playful, though slurred, and you hope it's enough to convince him.

Jungkook lets out a long breath, a mix of relief and exasperation. He turns his attention to Taehyung, who is struggling to keep his balance. "We were just having a little fun!!!" Taehyung insists, his words punctuated by hiccups. He sways slightly, his eyes glassy from the alcohol.

Jungkook chuckles, running a hand through his hair as he shakes his head. "Come on, let's get you both home," he says, gently wrapping an arm around your shoulders for support. He reaches out to grasp Taehyung's hand with his other arm, guiding you both towards the exit. As you move through the crowd, you lean into Jungkook's side. Taehyung stumbles alongside you, mumbling incoherent apologies and thanks as he clings to Jungkook's other arm.

The music fades into the background as you step outside into the cool night air, the relief almost immediate. Jungkook leads you both to his car, parked a short distance away, his grip never faltering. He helps you into the back seat, making sure you're comfortable before turning to assist Taehyung, who is still muttering about the party.

Once you're settled, Jungkook climbs into the driver's seat, glancing back at you with a reassuring smile. "You can relax now," he says softly, starting the engine.

As the car pulls away, you close your eyes, the events of the night already blurring into a distant memory. With Jungkook at the wheel, you know you're in good hands, and the thought is comforting as you finally let yourself relax.

Jungkook navigates the car through the quiet streets, pulling up in front of Taehyung's apartment. Taehyung, still a bit unsteady, turns to you with a sheepish grin. He leans over, wrapping you in a long, tight hug. “I'm sorry,” he mumbles into your shoulder, his voice barely a whisper.

You hug him back, patting his back reassuringly. “Don't be,” you murmur, knowing that you chose to join in the revelry. He pulls back, looking slightly relieved. Taehyung then turns to Jungkook, giving him a quick, grateful hug. “I'll make it up to you, man,” he promises, trying to convey his appreciation for the rescue.

Jungkook chuckles, waving off Taehyung's apology. "Just get some rest, Tae," he says with a smile. Once Taehyung is safely inside, Jungkook returns to the car and heads toward your home.

When you arrive, Jungkook is by your side, helping you out of the car and guiding you to the stairs. You lean into him, muttering, "M' sorry," as you fumble for your keys. Jungkook glances down at you, his expression softening.

"For what, bb?" he asks gently, his voice soothing.

"For ruining your night," you reply with a pout, feeling guilty for interrupting his plans.

Jungkook chuckles softly, shaking his head. "You didn't ruin my night, bb. What are you talking about?" he reassures you, his tone filled with warmth.

You groan, feeling the weight of your actions. "But you were supposed to have fun with Jimin tonight. You had to leave because of my drunk ass,” you protest, feeling bad for pulling him away from his evening.

Jungkook pauses, cupping your face in his hands, his gaze steady and sincere. "Hey, hey, no matter how drunk you get, or what trouble you're in, I'll always come to rescue you, bb." he says earnestly.

“Plus, it's late. We were going to call it a night anyway,” His words wash over you, easing the guilt you felt. You nod, grateful for his support.

With Jungkook's help, you make your way to the front door. He helps you open it, and you step inside, welcomed by the comfort of your home.

Jungkook patiently waits as you change into your pajamas, ready to help you with whatever you need. Once you're back, he makes you sit on your bed and gently dabs a cotton pad against your face, trying his best to help you remove your makeup. His touch is soft, and you can't help but feel grateful for his presence.

You giggle when you see him read the instructions of the make up remover wipes. “Are you really confused about make up wipes?” You ask, prompting Jungkook to chuckle and feign offense. “I am sorry, Your Highness, I am trying my best here,” he replies with a playful grin as he continues to awkwardly wipe the smudged make up with the cotton pad. You laugh, reaching for the pad and playfully protesting, "I told you how to do it before!"

Jungkook raises his hands in surrender, grinning at you. "My bad for not paying attention to your drunken instructions," he teases, shaking his head as if he’s heard this a thousand times. He watches you as you dab at the smudged makeup. "Wow okay, Ms. Expert," he says, leaning back to give you space.

"Well, someone has to be the expert," You stick your tongue out at him, and he laughs.

Afterward, he hands you a glass of water, "Here, drink this," he encourages, watching as you take a sip. His kindness and attention to detail makes you feel truly cared for, a warmth spreading through you that makes the evening's chaos seem far away.

“Do you still wanna meet up tomorrow?” Jungkook asks gently as he helps you onto the bed. You’re feeling the weight of exhaustion settling in, making your eyelids heavy. "I don’t know," you mumble, your voice barely above a whisper. "Kinda wanna stay in bed all day."

He smiles down at you, brushing your hair behind your ear with a tender touch. "I'll come over tomorrow then, hm?" he suggests, his tone soothing and filled with care. The offer brings you a sense of relief, knowing that even if you want to be lazy at home, Jungkook will still be there for you.

"Mm, thank you for understanding, Kook," you murmur, closing your eyes and letting the comfort of his presence ease you into relaxation.

“Go to sleep, bb, I'll bring you some soup in the morning, for the hangover,” he whispers softly, his voice a gentle reassurance as he pulls a blanket over you.

He sees you slowly drifting off to sleep, your breathing becoming steady and relaxed as exhaustion takes over. With a tender smile, he quietly gets up from the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb you, but you reach out and grab his wrist, your grip weak but determined. He stops and looks at you with a mix of concern and curiosity. “Need anything?” he asks, his voice gentle.

You mutter, your words slightly slurred, “Promise me you’ll come back.” The request is tinged with the vulnerability that comes from being drunk, revealing how much you rely on him even in your most disoriented state.

He meets your gaze, his expression softening. He offers a comforting squeeze to your hand before responding,

“Promise you.”

[off-main-street]

Tiny Ficlet bc I have 101 WIPs that will probably never see the light of day...

The Swamp door clapped behind BJ as he ducked through, back from his last round in the OR. Hawkeye sat on the edge of  his cot, a yellow piece of paper held loosely between his fingers.

“Hey. What’s that—a letter from home?” BJ asked, his own cold cot settling underneath his weight as he settled into it. 

“It's  uh, from Boston, actually,” Hawkeye said with a heaviness in his voice BJ doesn't like to hear.

“Who do you know in Boston?”

“Trapper.”

The name shot out of his mouth, and hung in the air between them as BJ shifted, suddenly uncomfortable in his bed.

“Trapper sent you a letter?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s the first time you’ve heard from him, isn’t it?”

“In six months.”

“What does it say? Wait—no, you don’t have to tell me. That’s between you and Trapper.”

Hawkeye looked up, his eyebrows creased into deep caverns, “Why do you sound like that when you say his name?”

“Sound like what?”

“Like that. Disdainful. Haughty.”

“Haughty?” BJ laughed, but there wasn't any amusement behind it, “I don’t think I do.”

“You didn’t even know him.”

“You’re right, I didn’t. So what do I care if you got a letter from him?”

“You sound like you care.”

“I don’t,” he bit back. 

A long beat of silence stretched between them. Hawkeye looked between the letter and BJ, his hands folded nearly behind his head as he stared up at the canvas ceiling.

“I’m sorry. Goodbye,” Hawkeye finally said, breaking their silence. 

“What?”

“That’s what the letter said.”

BJ leaned up on his side, slightly, his voice soft. “I’m sorry, Hawk.”

“Yeah, well.�� 

Hawkeye crumpled the letter in his hand and tossed it to the floor, but changed his mind the second it hit the dirt, and plucked it back up.  He smoothed  out the creases against his knee, his fingers lingering on the paper.

“What did he mean to you?,” BJ asked. Truthfully.”

It was a question he'd wanted to ask since the moment he met Hawkeye. Then it was just curiosity - why this man was so bent out of shape over the other getting to do what they all wanted to do, but now - now it burned a hole in him, now Trapper John was like a ghost that haunted their delicate friendship, one of the many obstacles that kept it in that state.

Hawkeye let out a long breath, the words coming slowly. “Truthfully? Trapper was - he was my air. I needed him like I needed six martinis to get through the day.”

“Right.”

“And in some ways, you and him are a lot alike. But there’s one glaring difference.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“I don’t need you the way I needed him.”

BJ looked at him, the words cutting. “Is that right?”

“It is. Because the thing is, Beej, I want you.”

BJ’s brow furrowed  “What does that mean?”

“It means…I could probably survive here without you. But I don’t want to. It means that when I wake up in the morning—or in the middle of the night—the tightness in my chest is different when I see you there. I needed him to distract me, to keep me sane. But you? I just want you here. Every day. As close as I can get. I want to know everything about you—even if I know it’ll be a lie. I just want to hear your voice say something, anything.”

BJ swallowed hard. “Hawk, I don’t…I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to that.”

“Nothing. You don’t have to say anything.”

Hawkeye’s voice softens, almost breaking. “Just stop thinking that when you replaced him, all you took was his spot in the camp. Because you didn’t. You took his spot in me, too. And then you started to fill up every other crack and break inside me.” He huffed out a low, shaky laugh. “Maybe I need you, too. But it’s the want that keeps me going.”

“The funny thing is, I need you,” BJ said after a moment, his voice thoughtful, almost hesitant. “Peggy and Erin keep me grounded. They remind me I have a reason to go back home. But you? You keep me alive—you give me a reason to stay here.”

Hawkeye raised an eyebrow. “Not your sense of duty? Your commitment to medicine?”

“No. It’s your blue eyes and terrible jokes. They make this hell bearable. And maybe…” BJ paused, the words catching in his throat. “Maybe there’s some want there too. A want I haven’t been able to name. That I’m afraid to name. That I never thought I’d be the kind of guy to even have to name. I mean…what do you call this want, Hawk?”

Hawkeye tilted his head, his voice soft. “Loneliness.”

BJ shook his head. “No, it’s more than that. It’s not that at all. It’s something new, something wholly different. Something I think I always would have felt with you.”

Hawkeye let out a short laugh, but his eyes stayed on BJ. “Nah, I’m only pretty to you because your beautiful wife is thousands of miles away. Put us side by side, and I’m just hamburger steak.”

BJ smiled faintly, his voice warm. “I like hamburger steak.”

That drew a laugh from Hawkeye, genuine and light. He folded the letter carefully and slipped it into the box with the others he’d gotten from home, and with  a quiet sigh, he stretched out on his cot, his gaze lingering on BJ for a moment.

A silence settles between them, one that wasn't heavy or strained, but full of something unspoken—something new, and  BJ turned toward him, watching the steady rise and fall of Hawkeye’s chest, feeling the cracks in his own walls begin to shift.

[yandere--stuck]



Can you do Yandere! Cahara, please? <3 I think he would be an interesting one

💙 Cahara hadn't exactly been the best person before delving into the dungeons. He'd been a thief, a burglar, an assassin for hire, the works. The stories he could tell… The point being: Cahara's record wasn't exactly squeaky clean. He could've spent the rest of his life like that, living adrift and moving from one job to the next, going where the work took him. But, then he met Celeste. It was meant to be a one-time encounter, but they hit it off. They kept meeting just to talk and get to know one another. And, gods Alll-mighty, he fell for her. She was with child, probably not even his own but, hell, he loved her and the child already. He wanted to take care of her. Start a family. Settle down with someone after years of being adrift. And the perfect job came at just the right time - for enough riches to take care of his family for generations, all he had to do was go into some dungeons to retrieve some guy. How hard could it be?

🔪 Incredibly. Incredibly hard. Cahara had never seen anything like this. Guards turned into horrible monsters and all kinds of other horrible beasts stalking the halls. And of course, he just had to go and get himself captured and thrown in a cell. Just his luck, huh? But just when he thought he'd spend the rest of his days in a dank, bloodstained cell… Lo and behold, his savior had arrived! You had managed to snatch a key from the hulking guards and were kind enough to allow him to join your party, the only other member being a girl you'd found locked up in this place.

💙 Now, truth be told, Cahara's initial plan was to take some silver and vials off your hands and hit the bricks while you were none the wiser, but something about you made him stick around. And not just because there was strength in numbers. Maybe it was a result of the sanity-sucking darkness of the dungeons, but something made him gravitate toward you. You were like a light in the darkness and he soon worried about trailing too far behind you or too far ahead. As you traversed through the dungeons and courtyards and prison, you slowly began speaking more and more. When you had the chance to, at least. Little things. Jokes or observations, which lead into a rapport between the two of you that seemed as easy as breathing. Just like with Celeste…

🔪 Not only that, but you made an amazing team. Usually, Cahara thought he worked best alone, but working with you in sync, like a well-made machine… It was like nothing else. When you both, not even needing to call out instructions mid-battle, struck at just the right time to send an enemy toppling and their head exposed… It was thrilling. Electric. Despite the terror found within the depths of the dungeon, Cahara couldn't recall a time where he'd felt more alive. And considering the dungeons themselves absolutely reeked with death, Cahara knew it had to be you that made him feel like this. He wasn't sure how long he'd been down in the depths with you and the girl, but already, you felt almost like another limb. He hoped you thought the same.

💙 Apparently, you were getting concerned about his state of mind. So sweet of you, always so sweet. But, the Mercenary had a feeling he was thinking so much clearer than he ever had before. He didn't need any ale or something to smoke. He just needed you. To be around you. You were his light in the dark. Someone he could tell everything to. It became so much easier to talk to you and the girl - well, chat to her, rather. You spoke of tales of old, of funny memories, of how you got certain scars… Of why you came here. His Celeste… And you did the same, spilling every detail for Cahara to soak in like a sponge. Maybe, partly, because you were scared of dying here and no one ever knowing the real you. It felt… Almost too perfect. Something preordained. Destiny. Like you and he were meant to meet. Because he was the one who was supposed to know you and love you. Cahara had never been a praying man, but the next ritual circle he saw, he prayed endlessly to Sylvian for bringing you to him.

🔪 If Le'garde was found alive, he'd quickly book up the levels of the dungeon with you and the girl in tow, all but shoving Le'garde through the halls in a frantic attempt at escape. If you try to part ways, Cahara would insist on thanking you for your help with money, or favors, or staying at his and Celeste's new manor indefinitely? He took in the girl as a daughter, too, which meant leverage over you if you were still particularly attached to the child. Cahara hoped just showing that he and Celeste wanted to provide and take care of you would be enough… But he isn't above drugging the meal Celeste's made for you (either with her knowledge and support or otherwise) and using chains or other restraints when you wake. 

💙 If Le'garde is dead, Cahara would still be annoyed at the whole thing, but grateful that he was led there to meet you. So, it all works out! Cahara would try the straight forward approach to asking if you wanted to join his and Celeste's relationship not long after emerging from the dungeons. He just… He just felt like he loved you. How could he not? After all you've been through together, you couldn't just leave. You confided in him, and he in you! You snuggled together for warmth and became companions… Friends… Something more? And he told Celeste all about you, and she loved you already! Please? Please, he needed you. The children, their- your growing family needed you and… Don't fight what's meant to be. He still had that bonesaw he found down there. That place changed him. You could see it. And you had, too. Don't think he wouldn't use it to keep you with him. Safe. Together. The lights of his life. Please. You have to understand. Bearing the soul of the endless meant that his love for you, his addiction of you, was just as endless and all-consuming.

[puppyscatorccio]

hii, can i be 🐈‍⬛?

been thinking about being best friends with natalie since before the crash but you come to realize how obsessive and possessive she is over you during your time in the wilderness, especially ever since she's claimed as the new leader

of course! glad to have you here. 🫶 this is a lovely request.

you never thought much about your friendship with nat. you guys were best friends since you first learned to write, doing everything together, from playing in the playground to talking about crushes and even letting her stay over at yours when her parents were driving her mad.

she was your best friend, nothing more, nothing less. but to natalie, it was much, much more.

you were everything to her. the only person she could fully trust, the one who was always there to pick up her pieces when she broke down, the reason for her to wake up every morning. her love for you went beyond something platonic or even romantic: it was a deep-rooted obsession, something she couldn't rationalize even if she wanted to.

when the crash happened, all nat saw was fire. fire, blood, a dead body here and there. yet her first instinct wasn't to survive, no. it was to make sure you were alive and safe. she had to carry your unconscious body out of the plane wreck, leaning you up against a tree and checking for any indication that you were still alive. when she felt your pulse, she was instantly relieved, that initial panic disappearing and slowly being replaced with just worry.

then, things changed quick. as soon as you all realized there was no way out, it was like natalie's whole demeanor changed.

it's not that she wasn't like this before the crash; natalie was always possessive of you, whether it came to friends or partners. she never let anyone talk to you for too long without her nearby, didn't let any guys hit on you, and god forbid someone tried to talk shit about you. it's just that you never seemed to notice it.

now, with all the dynamics changed and with the main focus being survival, it was blaringly obvious how obsessed she was. not only to you, but to everyone else. some of the girls teased her about it, but all they got was a glare sharp enough to cut through steel. to her, you were like a fragile little bird, something she was supposed to take care of. only her, no one else.

when she gets pushed into that leader position, it only gets worse. now that everyone listens to her, she uses it to her advantage. telling them to stay away from you, to not bother you, that you'd rather be alone. essentially isolating you from everyone else, so that you're forced to rely on her and her only. you notice the others avoiding you, barely even looking when you pass by. it doesn't take long for you to realize that this is all natalie's doing.

"can't you see that this is for your own good?" is what she tells you when you decide to confront her about it. "you don't need them. you're fine with me, aren't you?" deep down, she's terrified that you'll trade her for someone better, someone more interesting, someone who can comfort you better than she can. it terrifies her, so she removes all those people from your life so that you only have her.

[ayyyez]

Headcanons on shisui, minato, and Yamato on how they'd react to their s/o (civilian shinobi or otherwise:)) getting attacked and almost dying? 😭 need the agnst in my life rn I love ur work ur iconic uwu

A/N: the angsssst! but it's okay I love angst it's what I do haha but mostly as long as it has a happy ending because we deserve that as a treat as do they. And aw thanks sm!

TAGS: angst, reader attacked/almost dies, sad characters, mini scenarios rather than headcanons, mentions of hospitals, mentions of wounds, mentions of being impaled, no graphic injuries, characters blaming themselves, long post under cut

CHARACTERS: Shisui Uchiha, Minato Namikaze, Yamato

SHISUI UCHIHA

Shisui is usually the calm and collected one no matter the situation. He can take out any enemy. Always has a plan and can lighten any situation with a lighthearted quip should it call for it.

But this, oh god nothing can prepare him for this.

You're not supposed to be able to get hit. Your entire jutsu is supposed to be impenetrable. More so than that, he's supposed to be your eyes in case things go wrong, your back up.

The enemy found a weak spot though—pulled a thread in the seam everything falls apart right in front of him.

Shisui feels so powerless as he calls your name.

'I've got you.' He says, catching you just before you hit the ground.

He ducks for cover as kunai come at him from all sides. The rest of the squad focus on the guy who got you. Taking down the rest of the enemies is a sinch in comparison. He can't even think about anything else except getting you out and alive.

When he makes it through the thick of the trees he feels you tremble in his arms.

'Shisui.' You call his name, same as you have a thousand times before but this time it's so quiet, almost ghostly.

Shisui is terried to look down but he has to. He can't let you down by betraying his fears. He needs to make you feel safe.

'H-hey.' He doesn't mean to let his voice slip and tremble as he sees how you don't look so good. 'It's going to be alright. We're almost there.'

You manage a nod.

By the time he makes it to the medics you begin to fade and he panics. They take you off his hands and into the tent to tend to your wounds.

Shisui spends the whole time pacing outside pale as a ghost.

He can't sit or stand still. He's a jolting mess. He can barely accept the water or food offered to him by his comrades.

It's the longest wait of his life waiting for you to wake up.

'Shisui.' Is the first thing you say as you come to.

He cries he's so overcome with emotion. Takes your hand and drops his face against it. Poor Shisui is so exhausted and has been so scared he just loves you so much.

MINATO NAMIKAZE

Guilt overwhelms Minato as he sits in the hospital room waiting for you to wake up.

He wasn't there when you had been injured because he held so much faith in your ability to hold your own and now he can't help but blame himself for being so carless. He should have been there. He should have been with you.

It's not that now he believes you can't handle yourself, it's that he should have been there anyway. Anyone can slip up. Anything can happen. This is proof of that and he knows that now.

If he could go back and do things differently— 

No it's too late for that. He would do right and better by you now.

He stays by your side each day waiting for you to wake up. He speaks to you, tells you little things about each day that are trivial but also deep things like how much he cares for you.

'I'm sorry.' He whispers, stroking your hand. 'I love you, I'll be here when you wake up.'

He lets go of your hand and walks over to the window to look out onto the village below.

Everything seems smaller, holds less meaning without you here awake beside him. It's like something is missing. He's no longer quite whole.

There's a stiring behind him and Minato turns wide eyed to find you coming to.

He can't quite believe it when your eyes flutter open.

'Mmm.' You groan. 'Damn that hurts.'

A soft chuckle escapes him and then a few tears too. Just a flood of relief hits at the signs of you being there.

Then you turn to him, a little more awake.

'Hey.' You say. 'What are you doing all the way over there, huh?'

And that's all it takes for him to just crowd you in the tightest (but also careful) hug.

'I'm so glad you're awake.' He whispers. 'I'm so sorry.'

'Don't be sorry.' You assure him. 'I'm glad you're here though.'

He pulls away and looks you deep in the eyes. 'I love you.'

It's enough to take your breath away. 'I love you, too.'

YAMATO

The image of you jumping in front of him to protect him is something Yamato will never forget. He's not sure he can forgive you for it either if you don't wake up.

He knows neither of you had a choice but— 

Seeing you there impaled is just not something he can ever forgive.

You should have let it hit him. Village be damned he'd rather—okay he would not rather hundreds of other people die instead of you getting injured but that's besides the point! He should never of had to see you that way. If you didn't worm your way into his life and make him care then— 

Oh who is he kidding.

Yamato could never be mad at you.

He's mad at himself. He should never have agreed to put you in this situation in the first place. There should have been a better strategy. He should have thought up a better strategy.

'It was an impossible situation, stop beating yourself up over it and just be there instead.'

Yamato lifts his head.

'Kakashi.' He balls his fists against his pants then sighs unfurling them. 'I know it's just—'

'Just that you think you could have strategised yourself out of an impossible situation now that it's over.'

'This is different.'

'It's always different with the people we care about.' He gives him a knowing expression. 'With the people we love.'

'I don't need a pep talk right now.'

'No but you also don't need to sit here waiting for someone to scold you like you've done something wrong.'

Yamato gives him a doubtful look.

'You both did your duty and what you wanted to do so now you ought to both be together for the waking up part.' Kakashi sighs. 'Neither of you are dying today.'

Yamato takes a deep breath letting it settle in his lungs before he exhales again. Kakashi was right. He needs to be by your side.

'Okay.' Is all he says before he stands and heads to your room, leaving his senpai behind.

The tension is palpable as he enters your room. The machines beeping and your assisted breathing fill his ears. He sits beside you timid as he shifts closer.

'Sorry, I took so long.' Is all he whispers as he wakes for you to wake.

Your eyes flicker open a few moments later as if to let him know it's alright. He's not mad anymore, only relieved. Loved.

[reidsaurora]

"Trick, No Treat" ~ D. Morgan

Summary: When Derek and Reader get stuck on the haunted house ride at the fair, they play a game of Twenty Questions to calm Reader down. Little do they know… they were the answer to Derek's question all along.

Pairing: Derek Morgan x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1,129

Content Warning: very mild swearing, mentions of haunted house related things, mentions of food, lmk if i missed anything!

Extra Notes: i think i forgot how to write Derek fics because this lowkey sucks akshshddhh

Originally Written: 10/29/2023 through 10/31/2023

Criminal Minds masterlist can be found here!

Halloweek masterlist can be found here!

Your heart raced as you assessed the situation, panic running rampant through your veins.

It was dark and cold, and the smell of carnival food, while once pleasant, was overwhelming your senses and making you nauseous. The thumping in your chest sped up with every passing second that the ride didn't move again.

As if he could read your thoughts, Derek reached over to your side of the cart, nudging your fingers with his own. "You can hold onto me if it'll make you feel better," he said, the words never judgemental, but instead sympathetic. "I don't bite," he chuckled.

If you weren't already embarrassed from your apparent scaredy-cat behavior, you might've taken him up on the offer. "I'm okay, just… just talk to me?"

You might fight serial killers and terrorists for a living, but dammit if you weren't afraid of the dark. It didn't help that he'd somehow convinced you to go on the 'The Creep Show,' where a demon had jump-scared you moments before the lights went out and the ride froze.

"About what?" he asked, fingers still brushing yours in the dark.

"Anything not related to clowns, demons, dolls, or Jason Voorhees," you said, the words meant to be lighthearted but still managing to come out shaky.

Derek's breath was warm against your skin as he settled in closer to you. Chatter had begun to pick up in the dark area, everyone no doubt discussing what had happened mid-ride. If it hadn't been for the circumstances, you might've felt his presence unnerving, given your long standing crush on the man, but tonight, the heat of his words and the sound of his breathing managed to bring you a tad bit of comfort in all the chaos.

"Okay… uh, tell me your favorite color."

The question caught you off guard, and while it wasn't visible in the pitch-black space, you shot a confused look in the direction of his voice. "What?"

"You said to talk. So I'm asking you a question. Favorite color?" he asked again, this time stating it almost as a command.

"Um… purple," you answered, curious to know where he was going with this.

He paused for a moment, as if to think about his response. After a few seconds, he spoke again. "Okay, I'm thinking of something that reminds me of the color purple. Now you have to guess."

Derek's game seemed a bit childish to you, but you supposed it was a distraction regardless. "Um, is it alive?" A strategy you'd picked up as a child, to weed out the animals and humans from the inanimate objects.

"Yes," he answered, a chuckle settling on the tip of his tongue.

Your minds raced to think of all the things it could be. "Okay, is it a person?"

"Yes."

A small wave of jealousy came over you, despite your lack of confessing the crush you had on him. Still, you managed to take a deep breath, reminding yourself that it could be any number of persons. "Are they a celebrity?"

"Depends on your definition of famous."

A confused crease formed between your brows, though it was invisible in the non-existent light of the broken ride. "Okay… are they pretty?"

"The most beautiful person on planet earth."

A pang shot through your heart, a poisoned arrow hitting a bullseye. You wondered why he'd bother to bring up someone like a supermodel or an actress or anyone else for that matter when you were right there in front of him. After all, regardless of if Derek had knowledge of your crush on him, it was just common courtesy not to, given one's self esteem.

Just as your next question started to leave your mouth, the ride started up again, the loud music drowning out any words you might've attempted to say. Your eyes stayed straight ahead of you as the ride continued, focusing not on the clowns and demons jumping out at you, but rather on the tears that you willed not to fall.

Soon enough, Derek was holding out his hand and helping you out of the cart. He acted as though nothing was wrong, as if he hadn't just crushed what little hope you did have of ever asking him out.

"You never gave me a final guess, by the way," he mentioned as the two of you started to walk toward one of the concession booths.

You shook off your thoughts, meeting his gaze as he stepped into the line. "I'm not sure you gave me enough information," you jested in an attempt to act natural.

"Oh, I think I gave you plenty of information," he chuckled back, his eyes soft as they returned your gaze.

A soft huff of fake annoyance fell off your lips. "Well then, your hints suck because I truly have no clue who you were talking about."

Derek flashed you that signature smile of his, and your heart screamed in anger at your brain for falling desperately in love with it. "Okay…" he started to say, "How's this for a hint?"

The world felt as though it was moving in slow motion when one of his hands cupped your cheek, glancing between your eyes and lips as he waited for an answer. Your sadness quickly turned to a wave of anxious excitement as you nodded, nearly fainting when he planted his lips on yours. A rush of joy and anticipation and exhilaration coursed through your veins, and you truly couldn't believe this was happening.

His lips parted from yours, and already, you wished he'd never leave. Still, he met you with another one of those beautiful toothy smiles, butterflies floating around in your belly at the sight. "Think you know the answer now?"

Never one to back away from your friendly banter, and despite the anxiety flowing through you from head to toe, you managed to joke, "I think you were referring to Megan Fox."

A light snicker tumbled out of him at your comment. "Trust me, she's got nothing on you."

"You promise you aren't pulling my leg? This isn't some Halloween prank?"

He met you with a look of honesty, lips pulling together for a closed-lip smile. "I promise, this is all treat, no trick. Besides, if it was a Halloween prank, would I offer to do it again?"

You shook your head. "I suppose not." You thought for a moment, meeting him with slightly confused eyes. "Are you? Offering again, I mean?"

"If you're accepting."

Suddenly, a wave of confidence came over you. Flashing the man a smile, you placed both hands on his cheeks and pulled him down for another kiss, electricity shooting through you at the feeling of your lips on his. "I'm always accepting when it comes to you, Derek Morgan."

Happy Halloweek Finale, my dearest auroras! 🥹

As previously stated, I totally meant to have this up sooner, but life kicked my butt the past few days and it took me so long to get a chance to edit these last few fics for you guys.

I really hope you guys have enjoyed this week as much as I did! I had so much fun writing all these fics for y'all and getting to celebrate the holiday with you guys. If all goes according to plan, I'm hoping to do something similar to this near Christmas as well so stay tuned for that!

I hope you all had a very happy Halloween and a wonderful Halloweek! Thank you all so much for the love on these fics 🥰

-> taglist: @1234-angelika @lowsodiumfreaks67 @drayshadow @alexxavicry @leigh70 @darkloverfox @sammyrenae68 @cherrycandle @asgardprincess97 @gh0stgurl @esposadomd @randomwriter1021 @eddieharrington @danielle143 @topguncultleader @ah-blossom @reidselle @dungeons-are-too-cold @louderfortheback @reidsbookclub @cwritesforfun @maelartasch

[ilylovelyz]

once more to see you.

pair : levi x fem!reader

warning(s) : post pregnancy, angst with a happy ending, kinda a part 2. to see you again (can i get a kiss), but a lil revamped, postpartum depression, mentions of death, levi is using a cane instead of a walking chair 🌚, this is kinda long, probably my worst fic

it's been months since you've last seen levi. it's been months since the last time you kissed him on the lips, telling him you love him, and just overall basking in the silly little seconds you once had with him.

within those few measly months you happened to give birth earlier than expected to your first born. you tend to tear up whenever you remember those few months. you don't even know how long it's been since then, you just know it was a little over two months.

those few measly months were absolute torture. levi wasn't there to guide you throughout the end of your pregnancy, and he wasn't there for the painful, scary, and life threatening birth of your first child.

you remember the previous months, the months he was with you. the two of you would just talk and talk about the baby, what to expect from the delivery. he even swore that he'd be with you every step of the process, holding your hand. months of planning wasted, just like that.

you had to do it alone. and even after the harsh delivery of your son, you still had to wait for levi. the terrain of majority of the world was so fucked up, it almost made navigation impossible, especially for a woman who nearly died during her labor, and for a fragile newborn.

you of course don't blame levi. you never could. it wasn't his fault that he was one of the only few people skilled enough to exterminate the titans and save the world. if it ever came to it, you'd expect him to save the world over you.

but of course, there were times when you absolutely yearned for him. when the baby just would not stop fucking crying, did you wonder if life would be better if levi just chose you. if he just chose you over his duty, maybe, just maybe you wouldn't have to go through all this shit alone.

there were days when you couldn't even take care of your son, too depressed to even move from your bed. you had to have assistance to even just bathe yourself. you just wanted once more to see him. once more to show him the lovely creation you two had made, but you couldn't. but slowly, things got better. just like the rest of the world, you were repairing yourself and getting better.

it was when your baby was almost three months old were you finally told that safe navigation could be possible. and god, were you absolutely overjoyed. you couldn't help but (gently) swing your baby up in the air, marveling at it's giggles and laughs.

oh, once more you were going to see him.

the day of you finally reuniting with your levi, you were absolutely frightened. it had been some time since you last saw him. you panicked, dizzy mind coming to a bunch of horrible conclusions and assumptions that you damn knew weren't true, but could help but think. what if he fell out of love with you? what if he doesn't consider you beautiful anymore? then it hit you, what if he wasn't even alive?

jeez, that one stung. tears brimming at your eyes, you frantically shook the thoughts away. no, that's the worst, worst case scenario. he promised you that he'll see you again. after you calmed down, you somehow found the will to laugh at yourself. he's the strongest man to ever live, what are you even thinkin'? levi would never die on you.

when you finally arrived to where levi and the other survivors were supposed to be, you were frantically looking around for him. it was quite crowded even then. you ignored the shouts of the people who accompanied you, desperately surfing the crowd, trying to keep up with you.

you couldn't keep still. you had to keep looking. you wondered if he was looking for you too. ah, your heart stung at that. you paused in your tracks for a second, stopping at a balcony like-road, allowing your legs to take a break from all the walking you did. you watched from afar as the streets bustled, unknown faces leaving as fast as they appeared. how were you ever going to find him in this sea of people?

finally, your accompanies caught up to you, lightly scolding you for running off. you couldn't care less, you had worse scoldings before. you sighed in frustration, focus coming down to your baby that was so interested in this new, bustling world. 'so cute,' you thought, bringing up your free hand to cradle his much smaller, chunkier one.

you looked back up again at the crowd below, shoulders slumping in defeat. the sun was setting, the crowd was becoming less dense and many were returning to wherever they came from. sensing your disappointment, your accomplice spoke up. "we can always come back tomorrow," they pitifully smiled, their hand coming up to pat your back.

you felt your eyes sting with salty tears once more. you don't wanna wait another day. you felt that uncomfortable rise of heat in your chest as your breaths became uneven. "i jus' wanna see him once more.." you mumbled, looking down at your innocent baby, trying desperately to blink away the tears.

you let out a final heavy sigh, legs numb as you waddled to turn around and face back to the direction you came from.

oh. you blinked once, twice, three times. that face looked familar, you stupidly thought, too blindsided to see the short figure standing on the other side of the rode, walking aimlessly without a thought.

"there's just no way.." you sharply inhaled. finally, the tears just to fall on their own. finally, once more, you get to see your precious levi, albeit standing across the street from you.

your eyes sparkled with joy, only for them to once again to be overfilled with salty, stinging tears. wait, he's walking away from you.

within a second, you were almost clutching your baby, making sure they didn't fall out of your grasp as you began to speed walk into his direction. "wait.." you whispered. he didn't seem to hear you. "wait." you said, a little louder, but it still wasn't enough.

what turned into a paced walk turned into a wobbly run. "wait!" you cried out, almost tripping in your heels before eventually they just flew off your sore, bruised feet. ignoring the yells of your accomplices, you continued your struggle against the crowd, bumping into many on your way.

"please wait!" you cried once more, almost cringing when you felt the rasp of your yells. he was right there, but he's not hearing you. "levi! wait please!" you rasped out, stumbling to the side when you bumped into another particular face.

you heard the confused call of your name next to you, it was jean. you felt lightheaded as you finally regained your breath. only for it to be taken away again when he finally turned around. he heard you.

like an idiot, you stumped into jean's hold on you, face as red as a tomato. jeez, you were certainly out of shape. you didn't mind though, because in a second, levi was pacing himself to you. his beautiful grey eyes of his wide with disbelief as he looked at you.. and then the baby.

using the last of your strength, you pulled yourself together to somewhat leap into levi's arms, finally falling into his arms. you almost brought him down with you, if not for the cane, the two of you would be done for.

finally, you sobbed into his arms once more, tears running like a waterfall as you chanted his name over and over again. "i mished you sho' much.." you babbled incoherently, too busy choking on your own saliva. levi burried his nose into your neck, inhaling the sweet natural scent of you he missed so much. "i missed you so much too, my love." he whispered, peppering soft kisses on your jawline. his free hand was gripping at your waist, afraid to let go in case you left again.

levi's heart felt so heavy with all this pain and sadness. now that you were finally here, with him, he finally was able to let it all go. he felt so helpless without you. he felt like a burden, to be unable to walk without stumbling slowly. he lost sleep over the thought of you being alone for the last few months of your pregnancy. his heart burned painfully, he didn't want you going into labor alone.

he felt so useless. he promised you that you would have his support and he basically broke it. he was often stuck in his bed, too in pain and too tired to move. the tortuous thoughts of you replaying in his head. the minute he was better and able to walk a little better, he was up and searching around for you. the chance was little, but he would search everywhere just to see you once more.

you were sobbing into his arms until you gasped, pulling away and bringing down your baby to levi's view. "l-look levi, he looks like y-you," you snorted. you marveled at the very distinguished similarities between your husband and baby. all that hard work just for the baby to look like him.

stunned, he observed the baby for a few seconds. this was your baby? his baby? the baby he waited so long for? he was too amazed, but he didn't stay standing there for long like a fool before he brought up his free hand to the baby's cheek.

ah, it was so soft. he looked up at you nervously before he suddenly let go of his cane, ignoring the sudden loss of support in his permanently injured leg. his shaky hands came to wrap around the baby's body, careful not to unwrap it's fuzzy warm blanket.

levi couldn't help but let out a shaky breath as he held his son, his first-born. his baby. he couldn't wrap his head around it. the two of you made this? of course it's your child, it's precious in every-way possible that he can't seem to imagine he was this baby's father.

he didn't think a bastard like him could create something so treasured and beautiful. he didn't want to, but he couldn't resist the quivering of his lip as the baby in his arms looked up at him innocently with (e/c) eyes, gleaming with happiness and purity. levi felt like he was in paradise, finally holding his child and being with his fiancée.

leaning his head down, he placed a soft kiss on his son's forehead, before laying his forehead against his. the baby began to writhe in his arms as levi's tears accidentally dropped onto the newborn's face. "ah, sorry," he absentmindedly spoke.

you giggled at his apology to the baby. "levi, let's go home," you inched forward, bending your knees a little so you could place a yearning kiss on your little fiancée. finally, you've seen him once more.

[bakudekuficlibrary]

Hii! Do you have any fics with either Izuku or Katsuki as dancers?

BakuDeku: Dancer AU 1 Series. 15 Works. 1 Illustrative.

Dance with Me by astralchaos ( T | 30,159 | 10/10 )

Mina pulled up a video of a young man, seemingly teen, dancing to a popular new hit, and Izuku felt his heart drop to his stomach. His skin prickled and felt clammy as he started sweating nervously, not daring to move or make a noise. His eyes were glued to the screen but he didn’t see anything – his brain was too busy going into overdrive and freaking out.

Because Mina was showing him a video of himself. The one he uploaded last night.

How on Earth did she find this? He had barely a few thousand views, he wasn’t popular, and it’s not like he was even any good, especially compared to her or Kacchan–

“That move was sexy as hell,” Kacchan said, and that was when Izuku realized that his childhood friend – his longtime crush – also leaned in to watch the video Mina was showing him.

Momentum by meteormind ( T | 59,588 | 3/3 )

"You be the girl," Katsuki tells him.

"But... we're both boys," the dummy says like Katsuki doesn't have eyes.

"So? There has to be a girl. And I'm taller." Katsuki skates his hand over the shrubby mess of Twig's hair to his own cheek. "See?"

"Why do you get to be the boy just because you're tall? There are tall girls too." Twig looks around the room at all the poofy-skirted girls. "I don't want to be the girl."

"Someone has to be the girl, and you already look like one so it might as well be you, ya girly twig-boy."

Twig gasps. "I am not a girly twig-boy!"

[Hiatus] I Dance For You by claramemories, fericide ( E | BKDK | 257,647+ | 24/35 )

Izuku Midoriya danced all his life. Born without natural talent, he devoted all his time to being the best and equal to his lost childhood friend-current rival Bakugou Katsuki.

Or ex-rival, more like.

After Izuku heard the news that cancer was eating him alive, he stopped dancing. He kept quiet, pulling up a fake smile, an act he thought went unnoticed by everyone around him.

But fuck, he was wrong, wasn't he?

In which Izuku Midoriya is running out of time, and Katsuki Bakugou is trying to revive what he has broken.

Dancing to a Love Song by EyndsOfTheEarth ( T | 13,349 | 1/1 )

Katsuki can’t stand Izuku, it’s just a fact. Yet somehow they still get paired together for an upcoming dance competition.

Oh my god- and they were rival dancers.

Fancy Footwork by GreenEyesSublime ( E | BKDK | 13,549 | 2/2 )

Izuku is a ballet dancer preparing for the biggest audition of his life - a spot with the acclaimed UA Ballet Company in Tokyo! After a nasty run-in a few months ago, his mother insists on his school hiring a bodyguard to keep him safe during the trip. Too bad the man they hired is hunky ex-boxer Katsuki, who has a fiery gaze and the bullish personality to match.

Will Katsuki prove to be more of a distraction or a motivation?

-- Or, dancer!Izuku is practicing for a big audition and bodyguard!Katsuki gets inspired to show off some of his own moves - both on and off the dance floor.

[Series] Steps of Us by schrijverr ( G&T | 21,642 | 2 Works )

Bakugo and Midoriya used to dance competitive ballroom together. When nightmares keep them awake they start dancing again and finding their friendship back as well. Until a dance lesson brings it to light.

Penché by QueerPinoy ( E | BKDK | 1,133 | 1/1 )

Midoriya is supposed to look delicate. The long arch of his back leading into slim legs and pointed toes is supposed to be elegant.

To Bakugou, it’s sexy.

From the darkness of the audience seats, he feels no shame staring blatantly as his ass, the bulge of his dick in his leotard, watches how high his leg can go and oh god, he wants him. He wants to devour the unblemished curve of his neck, break down everything that is graceful about him. He wants to fuck the angel right out of him.

Balançoire by SkantySkylar (SkarySkylar) ( E | DKBK | 27,951 | 3/3 )

“They will all love you,” He closes his eyes, listens to the applause. The roses at his feet smell like copper. Adoration glistens on each petal. “They will all love you.” . . . Katsuki is a ballerina. Izuku is a Classics Major. They fall in love. Somebody dies.

[Graphic Depictions of Violence]

tendrement by bazookangel ( T | 1,283 | 1/1 )

Being the first nationally recognized male pointe dancer in Japan, Izuku tends to push his wrecked body to the brink. Luckily, his partner Katsuki is always there to catch him.

‧₊˚˗ˏˋ 🩰 ˎˊ˗˚₊‧

tendrement: (adv.) tenderly, fondly, softly

To Dance With Moonlight by StevieBanks ( T | 8,675 | 1/1 )

Izuku steadies his breathing and wills his roaring heart to calm down. The blonde holds one of the red earbuds in his hand. His head tilts with a question.

"You dance?"

A silly question, but a question nonetheless.

"Nope," Izuku shrugs. "I just know the entire routine of 'Giselle, ou Les Wilis' for shits and giggles."

The blonde snorts a sound of amusement. "You know any other routines for shits and giggles then?"

"If you're here for the Summer Solstice Recital, then I know every act, scene, routine sequence, and musical number."

"Huh." The blonde gets to his feet and steps closer. He tosses the left earbud in Izuku's direction. "Then dance, nerd."

Izuku catches it with a quick hand. A smile on his face and a quip on his tongue. "You gonna join me, pretty boy?"

Only Wanna Dance With You by FatalFanfiction ( E | BKDK | 3,652 | 1/1 )

“AND THE WINNER IS…”

Katsuki knew this was his— it had to be. The tension in the air was suffocating and if he had a less level head under stress, he probably would have fainted from forgetting to breathe. He was standing on stage, an audience in front of him and his dance crew behind him. This was the first year in his ten years of competitions that Katsuki competed in a mixed tournament— Ballet, Ballroom, Tap, Hip Hop, and Jazz all competed against one another. 

Katsuki never fuckin’ lost, okay? 

(Hint: He loses.)

[AUgust Writing Challenge: Dance]

Sing a Song of Symphony by Justanotherorange ( T | 3,796 | 1/1 )

Oneshot for the UADA AU created by Kinnme on tumblr. Inspired by the song "Symphony" by Clean Bandit.

Katsuki figures out his feelings towards a certain green-headed boy with an annoyingly admirable and heart-pounding taste in musical inspiration.

[Abandoned] You Keep Me on My Toes by Fawn_Eyed_Girl ( E | BKDK | 30,474+ | 7/10 )

After seven years in the States, contemporary dancer Bakugō Katsuki has returned home to audition for the prestigious Endeavor Dance Company, with hopes of scoring a principal position. He’s trained long and hard for this moment, giving up a chance to audition for American companies, to stand in the spotlight on a home stage.

But the day of his audition, he’s astonished to see a shock of green curls, and a face he left behind years ago: Midoriya Izuku, his former best friend and dance rival, who Katsuki had once said didn’t have what it took to be a dancer.

How did Izuku get there? Why is he, all of a sudden, so ridiculously good? And, most importantly… Why is he now so hot?

Katsuki doesn’t know, but he’s determined not to allow lingering feelings in his heart to overcome his ambition…if he can help it.

With incredible art by MeowMonster!

[Abandoned] Moonlight Sonata by Silver_Weasel ( M | 16,164 | 3/5 )

As Izuku follows the smooth rhythm of Katsuki's fingers on the ivory keys, his moves slow down with the music. He finishes with a raising of his arm, reaching for the ceiling and his fingers are loose, but not without purpose. Nothing was ever done without purpose as he danced over Katsuki's music like it was Mozart's most inspiring piece.

In which Katsuki, a young ambitious pianist, is forced to serve as an accompanist for ballet rehearsals. That's how he meets Izuku, a promising dancer who'll be quick to change everything he thought he knew about music.

Pas de Deux by orabid_rabbito ( T | 2,830 | 1/1 )

Bakugou Katsuki is devastated by his growth spurt.

It came before the other kids. His legs are too dangly, his arms are too long, his chest is bigger now. All of those new changes in his body are messing with his sense of balance and his weight distribution.

A cardinal sin for a ballet dancer.

Stubbornly telling himself he would not let this come into his way, Katsuki did his very best at all rehearsals, coming early for his dancing class, and leaving after everybody else, trying to minimize the effects of his precocious puberty of affecting his dance.

Still, he wants to cry when he sees shitty Deku name selected for the Pas de Deux in the next performance.

Katsuki trains more than anyone else, and now, he does it to the point of exhaustion, the knot at the bottom of his stomach pushing him forward. He won't lose again. He can't.

What the dancer doesn't know, is that Izuku watches him. Every day, every time he stays behind to work on his stance, the greenette stays behind as well, transfixed by the raw talent and power unfolding in front of him.

Come Dance With Me by oolongmilktea ( E | BKDK | 4,966 | 1/1 )

When discussing who's going to be in which team for their second U.A. school festival performance, Katsuki claimed that he's going to be on the dance team this time around. With no one believing him, the class taunts him to show off his dance skills. Not backing down from a challenge, Katsuki drags Izuku into the demonstration, reminding him of their history as competitive Latin dancers back in their younger years.

Things get heated.

*October Prompt Fic

*P.S. I suck at summaries.

UA Dance Academy by Kinnme ( WIP | Street Dance AU )

Story in illustrations that takes place in an alternative universe where the characters have no quirks, they're just normal human beings who dance. The main Academy is a school of arts and dance. WARNING, story contains KatsuDeku and TodoDeku, male/male, also angst, stay away if you don't like the subject please.

Other Links: Character Designs

To see the original 2018 post, click here.