#don't be sorry for sending multiple asks. send me a million asks and i'll be happy

[mypearlsareclutched]

I Don't Wanna Do This Anymore

High By The Beach | Chapter Four

Modern!Aegon II x Original Female Character, Modern!Aemond x Original Female Character

Sometimes it is easier to run away instead of facing your fears. But while Mila is ready to give up on herself, a certain Targaryen has no intention of letting her fall apart...

There is a potentially triggering scene in this chapter which depicts attempted sexual assault. Please do not read if this will affect you. If you want a run down of what happens in this chapter, message me and I'll let you know what happens x

Song inspiration | High By The Beach, Lana Del Rey

CW//TW: Attempted Sexual Assault (MDNI), drinking, clubbing, smoking, Jason Lannister being a scheve, angst, Mila-Stark-is-going-through-it.com, girls night out, shots, ANGSTT.

Word count | 3.4k

previous chapter // next chapter

Get out, get out, get out, get out, get out, get out, GET OUT!

The thought kept her going as she ran through the trees. Darting and zigzagging, jumping over bumpy roots and rocks. Her ancient trainers were rubbing against her feet, her lungs were aching for reprieve, her skin breaking out into a sweat, but she kept going, running as far and as fast as she could. The trees were merely green blurs, the darkness no obstacle as pure instinct spurred her on.

Maybe if I run far enough, I can outrun my memories. Aemond and Aegon and the drugs and the Targaryens and everything wil fade into a scar you never pay attention to, something you only catch in your peripheral vision, and only then you pay it no mind.

Gods her legs burned. They began to tremble as she slowed down, her knees wobbling and failing her. As she collapsed, her hands fell flat, prickly sticks and jagged stones stabbed her palms, sending red hot pain into her frenzied mind.

Falling to her side, Mila took deep breaths, her lungs heaving. The world around her was dark, cold, silent.

A horn could be heard distantly, and Mila's eyes searched through the thick forest for any sign of civilisation. Blinking lights swam in her vision, a distant road coming into view. She did not remember standing up, the gods themselves could have lifted her for all she knew, and she took weak steps in the direction of the road.

It was a fairly busy motorway, plenty of cars careening back and forth, bringing Mila back to reality. Over a nearby hill, the cityscape of Kings Landing loomed. Freedom, familiarity...

Escape.

Practically throwing herself out of the trees, she ran to the side of the road, waving her arms frantically in an effort to get some good samaritan to offer her a ride. Or a serial killer, either is preferable to staying here in this godsforsaken forest.

Cars honk furiously, multiple drivers shout complaints and insults at the strange girl standing halfway in the road. A blue ford slows, their hazard light turning on. Mila rushes to the passanger window, leaning over to see inside.

"Good grief, are you alright?!" A middle-aged woman stared at her through thick rimmed glasses, looking tired but concerned.

"I'm... so sorry... I need a lift." Mila said between gasping breaths, "My... uh, my boyfriend, he's after me..."

The woman gasps, "Oh you poor dear... please, get in!" The car clicks and Mila pulls open the door, as soon as she sits and is buckled in, the woman begins driving, asking a million questions that Mila barely has the mind to answer.

Kings Landing, a metropolis full of luxurious bars, expensive restaurants, cultural landmarks, and opportunities to fuck your life up. Royally.

After half an hour of sitting in a strangers car, answering the occasional question and waving off the driver's insistence at going to the police, the city hospital comes in to view. "Can you drop me off here?"

"Of course." The woman stops the car just outside the entrance, giving Mila a worried look, "Will you be alright from here?"

"Yeah, this is great." The Stark lets out a shaky breath, giving the woman a sincere look, "Thank you again."

"Don't worry about it. I hope... I hope things get better for you."

"...Me too." With that, Mila exits the vehicle, sending a small wave to the woman before she drives off. As the car disappears around the street corner, Mila heads down the road, heading towards Flea Bottom.

A familiar apartment complex come into view, deep grey and grungy looking. As almost building in Flea Bottom did. An old section of Kings Landing, it was not known to be glamorous. But Mila wasn't currently in the market for glamour. Walking up the steep stairs towards the main door, Mila pressed the buzzer to apartment 202D, hoping that the woman she was looking for still lived there.

"Hello?" An energetic voice calls out, thick with static from the ancient intercom.

"It's Mila." She responds simply.

"No way, get up here!" The door buzzes, and Mila wastes no time slipping through and climbing the dingy stairs to the apartment.

Alysanne Martell opens the door, auburn-tinted curls bouncing as she looks her friend up and down. She's dressed for dancing, orange dress form-fitting, golden jewellery jangling with her movements.

"Mila? Where've you been, girl?" Aly asks, grabbing Mila into a hug, "Haven't seen you since you got with Blondie McStickuphisass."

"Yeah, life's been... yeah." Mila shrugs, sniffing.

"Baela said you were out of the city, did you just get back?" The Dornish girl looks her up and down, eyebrows furrowing.

"Hitchhiked here."

Alysanne's eyes widen, her eyebrows raising as she stares at Mila, "Shit... are you okay?" She rests a hand on Mila's elbow, offering comfort that Mila has no need for right now.

"All good." She nods, "Where are you headed?"

"Um, Madame Sylvies? The slutty club on Silk Street, you know the one with the cages and male strippers?"

It was quite a famous nightclub. Many people ventured there for the severe atmosphere, a dangerousness was in the air. Something that made people feel alive.

"I know it." Mila nods, bouncing on her feet, "Care to bring a She-Wolf?"

"Are you kidding? I'd be honoured!" Alysanne chuckles, before looking down at her frumpy clothes with a grimace, "You're not going like that, though."

By the time Alysanne had dressed Mila up, they were joined by at least a dozen other girls. Floris Baratheon had been shocked to see Mila, but had given her a big hug... and a bigger tab of ecstasy. As it started to hit, Mila began to loosen up, her body submitting to the sensations quickly, settling into the haziness like it was a pair of well worn boots.

Shots were downed, spliffs were smoked, and meaningless conversations were had. Mila took a moment to look in the mirror before they left, blinking at the girl looking back.

Alysanne had found a deep grey dress in her wardrobe, the classic colours of the Stark siblings. It was tight and showed off her tits, barely covering any skin so Mila paired it with Aegon's coat. A small comfort. The outfit was completed with silver jewellery, and fur lined leather platform boots. "If the She-Wolf is joining us and free from the leash of the Targaryens, she's going to need to look the part.", Alysanne had said.

Mila could admit, she looked fucking hot. Her hair was wild around her head, her makeup glittery and just the right amount of smudged. She was looking very Mila Stark pre-aemond. Druggie, tipsy, scandalous party girl.

The other girls whistled as she excited the flat, hooting and hollering at the appearance of the illustrious She-Wolf.

"Howl for us, wolf girl!" Ally Blackwood called out. Mila grinned as she howled, and the girls erupted in their own meows and woofs, a pack of wasted animals.

The She-Wolf is fucking back.

Madame Sylvie's was packed. Hundreds of sweaty bodies mingled around the club, downing drinks and dancing with strangers. Mila was stood to one side, her fifth drink in her hand as she watched the crowd with bleary eyes. More and more acquaintances had appeared, and she had reintroduced herself to dozens of people, feeling her need for social interaction dwindelling.

Time to shake my ass.

Grabbing the first decent looking man she saw, Mila headed to the dancefloor. Heavy bass pounded, a fog machine spurted out heavy clouds that surrounding the air and swallowed people up. The man she grabbed held her close from behind, his hands loosely on her hips as she swayed to the generic music.

It was soulless, being here. The drinks she had consumed brought her no joy, the ecstasy and weed gave her no relief. The man she danced with was no-one, faceless to her. The music was too loud all of a sudden, and she detangled herself from the person's embrace, hobbling over to her friends again.

"Feeling alright, hot stuff?" Alysanne asks, giving her a concerned look, "Don't tell me you're a lightweight now?"

"Don't insult me." Mila hiccups, blinking blearily, "Do you want to do a line?" Aly's eye's widen, reaching out a hand to steady Mila.

"Um-"

"Floris!" Mila calls out, and Floris' head turns, strawberry blonde curls bouncing, "Line?"

"Hell yeah."

Before long, Mila is crammed in a tiny club bathroom, watching as Floris uses her father's credit card to make pretty lines of white on the edge of the sink. Her hands shake, but she presses them to her waist, gnawing at her lip as she practically drools waiting for her turn. The Baratheon makes quick work of two, smiling giddily as she bounces on the balls of her feet.

Taking the rolled up receipt from Floris' manicured fingers, she leans down and quickly snorts the line, allowing the quick flush of euphoria seep into her mind. Colours burst, her energy increases, but it's not enough.

As Floris giggles and begins dragging her back out the stall, Mina sighs, "Gods... I need more." kicking the bathroom door, she follows after Floris' jittery form.

Her friend gets swallowed by the crowd almost immediately, the neon lights dizzying and the ocean of people making her sway in place. Her hands remain shaking, her head reeling as she blinks in the low light.

A man looks over at her from the bar, his eyes travelling the length of her body. He's handsome enough. Brunette, dark eyes, stubble across his jaw. Different enough to the Targaryen men.

Sidling up to him, the man gives her a smirk, "Hello, gorgeous."

"Hey." Mila smirks, resting her hand on the man's shoulder. He smiles wolfishly, wrapping an arm around her waist to hold her to him.

"Get you a drink?"

"I'd really appreciate it." The stranger calls over the bartender, geting the pair of them shots of tequila that disappear as soon as they arrived. After a few more, Mila is practically draped across the man, letting him kiss down her neck as his hands wander down her back.

Someone familiar pops into view, and Mila's eyes widen as she meets the eyes of Jason Lannister. He smirks, walking over to her. She gently pulls the stranger off of her, giving him a smile, "One of my friends is over there, I'll be back in a second."

"Sure." He slurs, nodding as he reaches for his next shot.

By the time she abandons him, Jason is in her personal space, his beady eyes meeting hers. Mila practically jumps on him, clinging to him like a raft in the ocean. Because right now, this is not a person in front of her.

It's an opportunity to get high again, properly high. To make it all go away.

“Jason, I need a hit, please.” Mila begs, grasping onto the fabric of his jacket.

“Aw, sweetie, of course I can help you.” Jason leans forwards, pinching her chin between his thumb and forefinger, “But baby, you’re gonna have to work for it this time, okay?”

Mila nods, desperation in her veins as she leans into the Lannister's touch, paying no mind to his malicious smile. His hand wraps around her jaw possessively, white teeth gleaming as he nips at her cheekbone. Mila lets him drag her back through the crowd, having just enough sense to grab Aegon's coat from the cloak room before she is pulled by Jason out into the night.

"Come on, gorgeous, let's get you high." He murmurs into her ear as he pulls her along.

The bald doorman gives her a strange look as she is pulled into the dilapidated crack den Jason frequents. A week ago, she had been here getting her first hit since she was fifteen, and now she's back, but being pulled in past the rusty doorway into the dim light of the corridor.

It's near empty, a few vices can be heard from adjoining rooms. Jason says nothing as he pulls her along by her wrist. With bleary eyes, she looks back at the bald man, who watches them both with beady eyes until they disappear into a room.

Jason shuts the door behind them, smirking as Mila sways slightly.

"Why don't you sit down, sweetheart." He murmurs, grabbing hold of the lapels of her coat and tugging it off of her. Mila groans at the sudden disappearance of Aegon's comforting smell, hands feebly going to grab the coat back before her head swims and she stumbles back.

She's way drunker than she thought. And the weed, molly and coke has definitely affected her more than she realised at the club.

"Jason... I don't think I want to do this anymore." She says softly, confused as Jason continues to push her backwards. The backs of her knees collide with a leather couch, and she falls over on to it with a grunt. Jason simply chuckles, taking off his jacket and kneeling over her on the couch.

Panic grips her, and she becomes more alert as he looms over her, his hands dragging over her body.

"Stop..." Mila weakly says, trying to kick the Lannister away. He remains undeterred, laughing bitterly as he runs a hand through her messy hair.

"No, I don't think I will." He bites, "You remember the drill, sweetheart, I gave you that last hit for free, knowing you would come back. Have you forgotten how this works?" His hands drift down her ribcage, the weight of his fingers feeling slimy against her clothed body.

"I don't want to. Get the fuck off of me!" Mila shouts, pushing at his chest as he forces his weight fully on top of her.

"Lannister." The bald doorman walks in, freezing as he spots Jason sprawled on top of a struggling Mila. He averts his eyes, clearly uncomfortable, "Uh... some guy is here to talk to you."

"Tell him to fuck off, Jon, I'm busy!" Jason commands, returning his face to Mila's neck. She whines and tries pushing him off.

Jon looks at the pair, his face conflicted before he turns and leaves, the door clicking shut behind him, the finality of it sending further panic through Mila.

"If you keep struggling, this will be way worse for you." Jason grits out, grabbing her calves and wrangling them around his waist. Mila smacks his chest, clawing at his face until he backhands her, making her see stars.

"Stop!" Mila slurs, feeling him take her wrists into one of his hands, pressing his body impossibly close to her as he groans.

Mila looks away, staring at the blackened tiles of the storeroom, her body shuddering and tears falling down her cheeks as Jason's hands begin push her dress up. Distantly, a door slams open, banging against a wall.

"You fucking bastard!" Someone shouts.

Something breaks, heavy footsteps erupt around her and Jason begins making a spluttering, choking sound. His weight is tugged off of her as she tries to catch her breath. She blinks blearily, trying to see through her tears and her foggy mind. Her jaw drops as she takes in the scene across the room.

An arm is wrapped around Jason's neck, holding him in a chokehold as Jason goes red and struggles against his assailant. A flash of silvery hair can be seen, and Mila breathes a sigh of relief.

Aegon shoves Jason away, sending the man to his knees, coughing and retching.

Trying to sit up, Mila looks to the open doorway. Bald Jon stands in the doorway, looking out in the hallway as if nothing is happening.

"Fucking Aegon fucking Targaryen." Jason groans, his voice hoarse. Mila looks over at him, shivering and shuddering at his murderous, soulless eyes. "Should have known your junkie ass would get a little junkie girlfriend. Guess your brother decided to be done doing charity! You know as well as I do that you put a little dope in her veins and she'll let you do whatever you want to her-"

Aegon silences him with a kick to the nose, sending blood spurting out over his boot and Jason's face as the Lannister screams in pain, curling up into a protective ball. Turning to look at her, Aegon's eyes soften.

"Come on, Mila, let's go." Aegon murmurs, taking a tentative step towards her as to not frighten her.

She lets out a soft sound, allowing him to wrap his arms around her and pull her up, wrapping her in his arms. She holds onto him like a koala, burying her face into the comfort of his neck.

"I've got you, I've got you..." Aegon says, holding her with one arm as he grabs his coat with the other, his crocs squeaking on the tiled floor.

As they leave the room, Aegon nods to Jon. Over Aegon's shoulder, the bald man gives Mila a look.

"I've got a daughter about your age." He says softly, before clicking his teeth and storming back down the hallway, ignoring the sounds of Jason Lannisters pained groans.

It's raining when the pair of them exit the dilapidated building.

Thunder rolls ahead, as thick drops of rain pitter patter around them. Aegon lingers under the shelter of an overhead fire escape, shacking out his coat and wrapping it around Mila's shaking body, covering her head.

He jogs over to a car, a rickety looking thing the colour of the sea. He fumbles slightly as he unlocks it, opening the passanger door and gently sitting Mila down in it. He helps her put her arms through her coat, not before checking her forearms for fresh needle marks. When he finds none, he gives her temple a quick kiss, pulling the coat snug around her. The rain drenches him as he does this, put he pays no mind to it.

When he shuts her door, Mila sits in silence. She watches Aegon walk around the car, his white blonde hair sticking to his skull as he darts through the onslaught. The muffled noise of the rain and nearby traffic makes Mila's head spin, and she wraps her armsa round herself protectively.

"Gods, fuck, seven, shit..." Aegon mumbles as he practically dives into the driver's seat, shaking his head like a dog before he takes a shuddering breath, looking out the windshield.

He seems distant for a second, breathing heavily as his eyes dart around, like a frightened animal. He flinches, remembering Mila is next to him, and turns to her.

Slowly, he reaches a hand forwards, aware of her fragile state. She allows him to place his hand on her cheek, offering a small, soothing gesture as she shakes. A small sob escapes her, and Aegon quickly busies himself with turning the car on and truning on the flimsy heaters.

"Gonna take a while to get warm, this car is a heap of shit. Sorry, Mila." Aegon chuckles nervously.

Mila looks at him, her eyebrows creasing as she takes in his appearance. "Are... are you in your pyjamas?" She asks shakily, looking down at his joggers, sleeping gown and neon crocs.

"I may or may not have ran after you without putting much thought into my outfit, sue me." He murmurs, taking her hands in his and blowing on them to warm her up.

They sit in silence for a moment. Aegon focuses on warming her hands up, eyes distant as he rubs at her numb flesh, and Mila watches him with sad, scared eyes.

"I can't go back there." She sobs, her eyes glassy with unshed tears, "Please, Aegon, I can't go back."

Aegon's eyes rise to look at her, his face illuminated by the streetlights, shadows cast by raindrops freckle his pale skin. He nods, swallowing thickly as he turns his attention back to the street outside.

"Okay. Okay, we won't go back." He says softly, his thumb absentmindedly stroking over her knuckle. He ponders for a moment, gnawing on the inside of his cheek.

Then, his eyes light up, and a small smile appears on his pouty lips. He turns the car on, giving Mila a self-assured smile.

"I know where we can go."

AN// Guys the love and support I have been getting for this fic is actually amazing, thank you all so much for your likes, reblogs, comments and messages <3

Lula x

[minevn]

WE DID IT!

We've reached 100 followers everyone! Thank you so much for your support! This has been such a journey and never in a million years would I have expected people to like and enjoy my stories as much as I do, seriously, it means so much to me! Thank you all once again for your support, it's been amazing and has made me so happy to read all of your asks

I would also like to apologize for not posting as much recently. My brain has been a little fried from writing, but I'm slowly but surely working on the drafts! Sorry for the people who sent asks and are waiting!! Here's to hoping this event will be a little bit more of a break and motivate me again!

ANYWAAAAAYS!! For the poll, Mine doodles won! I'll be taking 50 requests for Mine doodles! I've also decided to add some flat colors! As mentioned in the poll post, in the beginning you may only request one drawing that way anyone who wants to request gets a chance, after requests start dwindling/ a certain time period ends(still deciding, maybe a week or two!) you'll be able to request more, all a ask is that you don't spam please! No need to worry if you don't get to ask a request, either because you weren't here the first time, or time ran out or all the slots filled up, this event will be repeated eventually and you can ask then!

I do have a few more things you can request/rules and what you can't! Please read carefully and if you have any questions let me know :3

CAN

Request multiple Mine characters in one piece

Request your oc/s with a Mine character or multiple!

If there's a specific pose and/or outfit you want me to draw the Mine cast in, please send in some references, thank you!

I ask that you send requests in my askbox, you can turn on anon ofc!

Also please be kind of specific about what you want. like if you want to suggest maybe like Yani and Jun, like what are they doing, is there any sort of place you had in mind for where they are? Any kind of outfits you want to put them in? If you just want a drawing of one of the characters, you can just say (name) plain and I'll try to come up with something! I'll also assume that an ask with a Mine character and you oc is romantic unless stated otherwise, so please be as specific as you can, even if you think I may not need it or it should be obvious, I need things stated to me clearly :3

CANNOT

Request nsfw(I'll probably have that event on twitter at some point!)

honestly, anything that goes against my rules so like no proship or bigotry or anything else gross like incest(Please dni with my stuff if you're into any of that stuff)

No requesting other people's yandere's(You can suggest your yandere oc with mine though if you want to, just not any solo drawings of a yandere not in Mine.) Also if you're requesting your own yandere, I ask that you keep anon off for that ask, just so I can make sure it actually is your yandere, thank you! Also if you don't want your account to me linked with mine, then you can send me a message of your ask and I'll send the ask to myself :3

Also I'd prefer to not draw any solos of your ocs(Once again, totally fine if you want me to draw them with the Mine cast :3)

Please don't request shading or clean lineart, it tuckers me out quickly and makes me lose motivation, if I did that, this event would never finish LMAO

Please don't rush me either, I have a life outside of Tumblr and Mine. I may also not like how the drawing is turning out(I'm sorta a perfectionist when it comes to my own art) and I may also lose motivation or just may not feel like drawing(Kind of like what's happening with writing rn)

Honestly, for my don'ts I don't think I have to worry, everyone who has followed me has been really kind and respectful but I felt the need to clarify things and say things because of some of the stuff I've seen on social media. Anyways, HAPPY 100 FOLLOWER MILESTONE EVENT!! I appreciate each and every one of you so much more then you could ever know, I wish I could express my joy and gratitude better! MWAH MWAH <333333

With that, let the event BEGIN!!

[female-malice]

I’ve sent you multiple anons in the past but you’ve never answered them... Did they just not send or do you leave some asks unanswered

Oh sorry I have two blogs and like a million unanswered asks.

I guess I just answer asks at random. I don't delete asks because I think "oh maybe I'll go back and answer that someday"

but then my ask box is always full so I can never remember what I've answered and what I haven't

let me know if there's a specific ask you want me to answer and I'll find it

[maitlandsniles]

Heyyy sorry bc 2nd ask in the day but. Write a lil T-bau drabble pour moi

you’re gonna hate this (plus it’s too long) but here you go my friend. it might not look like a t-bau drabble at first but you just have to trust me 👁👁

After weeks of anxiety and pining you’ve finally gathered the courage to ask Unai out. So here you are at the Arsenal training ground, dressed in your finest gown. Perhaps a gown isn’t fit for a football field but you have a flair for the dramatic and you believe that a moment like this deserves to be treated like the Oscars.

As you walk towards the field you make out his body amid the flying balls and running men. You can already tell his hair is unkempt, just the way you like it. He’s all you can see as you stride towards him. You’re about to call his name when, BLAM! You’re struck by a football smack dab in the middle of the face. As you raise your hand to your nose to keep the blood from pouring out, you see a cheerful Mattéo Guendouzi waving at you from a distance.

“Y/N!!!” he yells with a smile on his face. You stare at him in shock. “Y/N!” he repeats as he jogs towards you. Once he reaches you he asks sunnily, “Did you get my ball?”

“Excuse me?”

He laughs. “It was silly of me to ask. I can see that you got it.” He points a long, bony finger at your bleeding nose.

“You kicked that ball at me?” You can taste blood as you speak.

“Obviously! I saw you and I just had to!” He stares at you, smile never breaking. When you don’t say anything, he adds, “Nice dress!”

You look down and see that there are already some drops of blood staining the front. Your nose really might be broken. You look back at Mattéo, who is still smiling. “Why would you do that?”

His smile finally dissipates and turns into a confused frown. He asks, slowly, “What do you mean?”

“Why did you kick a football in my face and break my nose?”

Mattéo looks at you like you just asked him if Nike was better than Adidas. The answer was obvious. “Um. Because you look beautiful. Are you stupid?”

You don’t know what to say. Maybe you are stupid. You certainly feel woozy from the blunt trauma to the face and the loss of blood. Mattéo grins at you in silence as he awaits a response. There’s a blush on his cheeks and he’s shifting his weight from leg to leg. Finally you say, “Well. I’m gonna go to a doctor now.” There’s no use asking Unai out now that you look like such a hot mess. You begin to walk back where you came from. Mattéo walks beside you.

“So…” he starts. You don’t answer. He grabs a nearby ball and begins to juggle it as you walk. You tense up, fearing that he may lose control of the ball and hit you again. But he doesn’t lose control. Instead, he purposefully kicks his foot up and gets the ball to whack you in the gut.

“Mattéo!” you manage to gasp out through the loss of breath.

“Hehehehe,” Mattéo giggles, his hand covering his mouth coyly. “You’re so cute.”

Between the blood flooding your mouth and the difficulty breathing after being winded, you find it hard to react to him. All you hear is “Hehehe.”

Another ball strikes you, this time it’s in the back of your head. Then another knocks you in the shin. Mattéo is kicking footballs at you at mach speed. “Hehehehehe,” he keeps giggling. You’ve fallen to the ground. You’re losing consciousness. “Hehehe.” Mattéo thinks you’re beautiful. You’re fading away.

NO. You’re not dead. Mattéo doesn’t have the power to kill you. You awake in a white room and look down at yourself to find that your formal gown has been replaced with a hospital gown. You sense a looming presence in the room. It’s a man standing in the corner. A very tall man. A very slender man. He looks distressed. Is it Paul Ryan? You squint at him and as your mind begins to wake up you realize that it’s Thibaut Courtois. He notices that you’re awake and he walks over to your bedside and sits down in the chair next to you.

“Y/n. Thank god you’re alright.”

You’re feeling groggy but you manage to ask, “Mr. Courtois, what are you doing here?”

He smiles at you. Looking closer at him, you see that one of his eyes is red. “I was in London vandalizing Stamford Bridge and I thought I’d check out the Arsenal training ground. When I got there I saw Mattéo Guendouzi pelting a beautiful woman with footballs so I intervened and brought you here. Mattéo put up a fight.” He points to his eye. “That’s how I got this. But clearly I was stronger.”

Maybe you’re shell shocked but Thibaut looks hot. And his story of triumph over Mattéo makes him even more appealing. Also… did he call you beautiful? “Thank you so much for saving me, Mr. Courtois.”

“Please. Call me Thibaut.” Thibaut winks with his red eye. He reaches tentatively for your hand. You smile to encourage him and he cups your hand in his own massive ones. “Y/n… I…” He looks away. He’s blushing.

“What is it, Thibaut?”

He composes himself. “I want to ask you something.”

Your heart feels like it’s beating out of your chest. “Yeah?”

“Would you… would you help me hide? The Belgian demon that gives me my powers is hunting me down because I haven’t given him any sacrifices lately.”

Oh. “Um. Yeah I can try to hide you at my place.”

Thibaut beams brighter than the sun at your answer. “Thank you so much! You don’t know how much you’re helping.” He pauses for a second. “I have another question.”

You sigh. Does he need to hide somebody else, too?

“While we’re hiding out, can you **** ** ********** until I scream in Dutch, English, Spanish, Portuguese, and French simultaneously?”

Yes. You can.

[swanimagines]

Hi Jenni! Could you write headcanons about being a Grisha and a member of the crows, coming with them across the fold in their job to kidnap Alina? Thank you so much if you do! 💜

A/N: This has been sitting in my inbox since SaB came out, I'm very sorry it took so long XD I also made Y/N like, Inej's best friend. I hope you like it!

BEING A CROW AND A GRISHA, AND JOINING THEM IN THEIR QUEST TO KIDNAP ALINA STARKOV:

- You escaped the Little Palace when you were 16, as you felt you never fit there and the Palace life felt suffocating.

- After a few bumps in the road, you found yourself from Ketterdam, and mainly joined the Dregs for shelter at first.

- You kept your Grisha powers as a secret for a long time, but eventually Jesper caught a glance of them when you healed a head wound one of your friends had gotten in a bar fight and was unconscious.

- You told him not to tell anyone as you didn't want the word to spread, but it didn't take long before Kaz and Inej found out about you being a Healer too.

- They kept quiet about it though.

- Your bravery on heists was extraordinary, and you also had wit and had the ability to make new plans if every one of Kaz's plans would fail with your position (they never did though, but you always kept an eye open for possible exits and such just in case).

- So it didn't take long for you to become a Crow.

- Inej in particular grew to be like a big sister to you once you got in.

- Then the word came out that a Sun Summoner has been discovered.

- Kaz knew that they'd encounter some Grisha on the way to kidnap the alleged Sun Summoner, so he told you that you'd be coming with them.

- You were a bit surprised, as you were fairly new to the Crows.

- But you gladly joined them anyway.

- Even though you exactly didn't approve kidnapping her, but a million kruge meant a lot of things, most importantly freedom for Inej.

- You smelled something fishy about the Conductor when you were about to cross the Fold.

- But you knew that Kaz never failed, and he would have gotten a sniff on the first glance.

- You, as a former resident of the Little Palace, couldn't risk stepping your foot in there again, so you were mainly at the carriage with a scarf covering half of your face, ready for action if Kaz or Inej would come back wounded, as the heist was dangerous.

- Being with Jesper on a lookout when you're waiting for Kaz and Inej to get back, and seeing Alina coming out and hiding inside the trunk of your carriage.

"Did you see that too?" -You

"She jumped into the trunk. Of our ride!" -Jesper

- Rolling your eyes when Jesper is being cryptic about Alina's whereabouts.

"She's at the back. She apparently ran away on her own. Doesn't know we know." -You

*Kaz and Inej stare at you*

"Aw, you ruined the fun, Y/N." -Jesper

"I just don't feel like looking at your smug face all the way to East Ravka." -You

- You kinda felt wrong for kidnapping Alina, but the thought of Inej being free from Tante Heleen kept you going.

- But you still hoped there would be another way...

Tags: @musicallisto @take-me-to-ny @mindofasupernova @lxncelot @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @someoneovertherainboww @vintagebitc @fandomstuffff @montsepliego @thatpremedicinestudent @number-0-iz @tranquilitymoon @just-a-new-start @kaqua @booksreplacedmysoul @readingslumpfanfic @dancingwith-sunflowers @shadowhuntyi @rika90 @imma-too-many-fandoms @the-abyss-gazed-back @thereagles @kiwijulia @beatitlikeabongodrum @louweasleymalfoy @aliiiyyaaah @malfoys-demigod @aleksanderwh0r3 @gallysonegoodlung @maybe-potato @dustyjjumpwings @whatiswrongwithpeople @thegirlwiththeimpala @kykymyeon @lazyotakujen @bookfrog242 @mrs-brekker15 @notplutos // reply "tag me" to be added to my SaB taglist or send an ask with your desired fandoms if you wanna be added to multiple taglists! I'm away rn and some fics might pass without you being tagged, but I'll add you when I'm back.

[blindingdutchy]

lamentation | SEVEN

{peter parker x fem!reader AU}

based on All the Bright Places by Jennifer Niven

SERIES MASTERLIST

word count: 4,000

warnings: fluff. angst. language. not even sure why i warn for angst anymore this whole story is just angsty af

18+!!! minors stay away!

In the following few weeks, you realized two things. One: Peter Parker was definitely not subtle. The other being that you were definitely in way over your head. There was no denying the stupid butterflies in your stomach anymore, or the way you found yourself expecting his touch before it even came.

It seemed as though the two of you were like magnets; a constant tug gravitating the pair of you back to each other with an unstoppable force. If you weren't together, he was on your mind, and like he could sense you thinking of him he'd be quick to reach out in some way or another. Be it appearing at your side, all happy grins and playful eyes, or calling your phone no matter the time with his stupidly adorable stutter--Peter seemed to think of you just as much as you thought of him.

The more that you thought of him, the more that you wished you didn't. It was terrifying. You wished that you could pull away again, to push him back out of your heart and lock those iron bars tight once more, but your heart had grown selfish and stubborn. It was as if you were the one locked out anymore; the control over your feelings slipping further and further from your clutches with every toothy smile Peter sent your way.

Like a magnet, he held you in place. Oh, to be held by... You slapped a pillow over your face and screamed, holding it so tightly that your nose ached and you couldn't breath. Peter Parker was like a disease. A stupid, all-consuming, utterly infatuating disease of the mind and the spirit.

You knew that you were wasting time, undoubtedly causing yourself to risk being late for school with every minute that passed as you continued to lay in your bed, but you couldn't bring yourself to get up. Already, your mother and father both had knocked at your door on multiple occasions and questioned if you were sick, and now you were regretting saying no. It would have been so easy to avoid him if you'd just played hookie.

But, with midterms in the near future, you knew it wasn't the best idea. The realization had come to you in the night. A moment so insignificant, so mundane, but it had been as if a switch were flipped in your mind. A light was turned on, so to speak, and illuminated all the thoughts and emotions you'd been so tirelessly repressing.

Talking on the phone with Peter was like a drug, and talking on the phone to him at night was a dangerous game. Under the dull light of a crescent moon and the ridiculous teddy-bear night light that was plugged into your wall, a lingering remnant of your sister's presence in the space, your inhibitions were always low. With sleepiness your walls were always lowered, and he'd unknowingly put a fatal crack in the foundation.

You rolled onto your stomach on your bed, kicking your feet through the air like a little kid as you fought back the grin that always seemed to worm its way across your lips when you were talking to him. "So, how do you like Ned and MJ?" Peter asked, and you could almost picture him mirroring your position as you heard the quiet rustle of blankets over the line. A little giggle bubbled out of your mouth at the thought.

What a sight that would be, Peter kicking his legs to and fro like a school girl in love. "They're cool. I kinda like that MJ doesn't even pretend to hide the fact that she thinks I'm weird. I don't--I don't know, it's refreshing I guess. Ned's sweet." you rambled, and it was the truth.

Ned and MJ were easily slipping into the fortress that shielded your heart with every passing day. Somehow, it wasn't as terrifying as you'd expected it to be. Perhaps that was because they didn't harbor a secret identity with which they risked their lives every single night, or maybe it was just because you'd come to realize that letting people in wasn't so bad. Not everyone was going to die on you.

Michelle Jones really didn't pretend not to think you were weird, not even a little bit. Her blunt and honest nature was a nice change from the quiet stares that seemed to follow your every move; MJ wasn't much for staring. Rather, she boldly told you what she was thinking without any shred of doubt.

And Ned, sweet Ned Leeds, was like a puppy personified. Always happy, always smiling, and always waiting to offer you compliments when you approached. You couldn't remember the last time someone had dared compliment your hair, your smile, or your outfits. Ned made it impossible to feel anything but comfort and joy in his presence, even his awkward nature was endearing.

"I'm glad." Peter hummed, "They really like you. To be honest, though, I kinda like it when it's just us. Maybe I should have waited a little longer to share you."

There was a pang in your chest at his words. Peter had been subtly flirting with you for days now, but this was more direct. He didn't have to come right out and say it for his implications to come across loud and clear, and that magnetic pull grew stronger.

So strong, in fact, that you murmured back, "I like it when it's just us, too."

If you had just kept your mouth shut, maybe he wouldn't have been so bold as to say, "Not gonna let them steal your heart from me, are you?"

The words were right at the tip of your tongue. Your heart was screaming, never! Nobody could ever steal me away from you, Peter! Yet, your mind was racing with a million and one horrible thoughts that made you feel as though your mouth was full of mud.

The silence between yourself and Peter grew thick as it drew on, no words escaping your lead-like lips. The voice in your brain, the one that sounded like your sister yet you knew was not her, was ringing in your ears. How could you ever fall in love, when she never could? How could you give your heart away, when she never had the chance?

You took that chance away from her. You stole it. This thing, whatever the weird force between the two of you was, was all stolen time, stolen opportunities, and stolen lives.

"Good night, (Y/N). I'll see you at school?"

You whispered, "Yes." The line went dead, and you felt cold.

Those simple words from Peter, with meaning and intention that was far from simple, were all it took to send the walls, bars, and barbed wire around your heart crumbling into nothing. With no protection, no barrier between yourself and the dangers of everyone else, your mind was working on overdrive. It would have been so easy to let him in, had that voice remained quiet, and yet you were steadily building those bricks back into place.

Now, all that was left to do was to steal your heart back. When had he managed to take it from you? Had he snuck in during the night, slipping through the strategically placed cracks and weak points he'd created, and stole away with it undetected? Had he taken it that first night, without you ever noticing?

As you finally released the pressure over the pillow on your face, sucking in a shaky breathe and letting all the heavy things crash over you again, tears burned your eyes. You didn't want to push Peter away. You didn't want to be the reason he was hurt, upset, or angry--you weren't ready to be the villain in his story.

"Mom?" you called out, knowing she was lingering close by.

Proving you correct, the door to your bedroom cracked open only seconds later and your mother's worried eyes fell upon your blinking ones. She definitely saw the troubled look on your face, the tears in your eyes, yet she held back from mentioning any of it as she asked, "Are you sick, honey?"

You nodded, the lump in your throat aiding your act as you croaked, "Yes. I don't feel good."

She frowned a little, knowing that you were bending the truth of the matter. Your mother was perceptive, and with the emotion all over your face, it easy for her to know that this wasn't some stomach bug or sore throat. To your relief, though, she resigned, "I'll call you out of school for the day. I'll be in my office if you need me."

Tomorrow, you could be the villain. For today, though, you were content to avoid your troubles and wallow in your self pity. At least this way you had some time to slip back into your stoic, cold demeanor before you had to face him. Time to prepare yourself to be alone again, because you knew that once you pushed Peter Parker away, Ned and MJ would be quick to follow him.

Sleep didn't come for you like you hoped it would. Well, it did, but then you found yourself dreaming of Peter and woke with a start. School had started an hour ago, and already there were a flurry of confused and increasingly alarmed messages from him lighting up your phone screen. Even though you couldn't hold back from reading them, you locked it before you found yourself replying as if on autopilot.

Pete: are you late

Pete: i'm at your locker

Pete: hello?

Pete: i'm going to class... see you there?

Pete: are you okay? you said you'd be here

Pete: at least let me know you're aldkhdkfj

You spent the day in your room, ignoring Peter and ignoring the world. Occasionally your mother would crack open your door to check on you, fussing over feeling your forehead despite the fact that you both knew you didn't have a fever, and tittering little comments about getting rest and staying hydrated. She knew you weren't sick, yet you were grateful she didn't try to pry.

As much as you wanted to tell her all of the things that were on your mind, the reasons that you were upset, you couldn't. You couldn't tell her all of the awful things you were thinking, and see the way her face would contort in anguish over you. You certainly couldn't listen to her telling you that it wasn't your fault, you weren't wrong for liking a boy, and your sister would want you to be happy. Even if you knew, in some deep part of your brain, that it was true.

Pete: got my phone taken in calculus sorry

Pete: I'm at lunch now, are you okay?

Pete: are you sick?

Pete: like... actually sick?

Peter really was relentless. You wondered how long it would take for him to catch onto what you were doing, or if he would at all. Would he understand why you suddenly gave him the cold shoulder? Would he understand, and be okay when you pushed him away again?

Pete: I'm in speech now.

Pete: we got the class to work on the speech and you're not here

Pete: not that we could do much anyways since you're so stubborn but still

Pete: okay what is going on

Pete: (Y/N)

Pete: please talk to me

Reading all of his messages kept the ache in your chest alive, stopping the numbness from creeping back in. You wished you could put your phone down, turn it off even, but it was like a cruel an addicting game to read each message as it arrived. You found yourself watching the little three dots as he typed another message eagerly, even if he was far from happy.

When school ended, he called. You let it ring each time, watching his name scroll across your screen over and over again until it ended. Once, twice, three times--he finally stopped calling, not leaving a voicemail.

For awhile, you wondered if that was it. Was he done? Had he caught on? Had he figured you out just as easily as he always seemed to do? Had Peter given up?

Pete: i know what you're doing

Pete: i'm sorry if i made you uncomfortable

Pete: we can just be friends if that's what you want

It wasn't what you wanted, and that was the problem. You didn't want to be friends with Peter Parker. Well, you didn't want to just be friends with him. You wanted to know what his touch felt like when it was deliberate and welcoming, not the fleeting and curious brushes of his skin on yours. To be held by him, to taste his lips, to hold his heart in your hands like he already held yours--you wanted so much more than friendship with Peter, and that made you a thief and a fraud.

You: that's not what i want

You were weak. A weak, cowardly idiot is what you were, and you threw your phone on your bed with a groan as you realized what you'd done. The voice in your mind whispered insults, taunting you for being so easily broken.

Pete: what do you mean

You: i don't want to be friends with you Peter

Pete: oh

One simple word, and you realized he had taken that in a completely different way than you had meant it. Yet, you didn't correct him. You didn't explain that you meant you didn't want to just be friends. Maybe this was your chance--an easy way to kick him outside your walls without having to see it firsthand.

The chance didn't last long. A quiet knock sounded on your window, and your heart froze in your chest as you tried to sink deeper into your bed. It was the wind, you told yourself, until the knock sounded again and slightly louder. You could see the shadow on your floor out of the corner of your eye, and you buried your face into your pillow to block it out. If you ignored him, he would go away, and this would all be over.

After a few more knocks, it was silent for awhile, and you tempted a look at the floor only to frown at the sight of the shadow missing. He was gone, and you were alone again. Your lip quivered at the thought; what had you done? It was a mistake. This was a mistake.

You didn't want to push him away. You wanted him to hold your heart. You wanted Peter Parker as your friend, as more than a friend, hell, as anything as long as it was with you. But now? Going back on your word and dragging him back in again would be pathetic. He didn't deserve such treatment, especially not from you.

So, you pulled your pillow back over your face and let the tears fall. Your hot breath burned your eyes and made you feel sticky and gross, but you didn't care one bit. It felt cathartic to cry, like returning to a familiar place you'd been skirting around for ages. Crying over Peter was different than crying over your sister; the hurt was different, but one thing was the same: both were all your fault.

"Go away, mom." you whined, barely hearing the sound of your door unlatching over your muffled sniffles. It creaked further open, and you groaned, pressing the pillow harder onto your face, "Mom, please, I just want to be alone."

A throat cleared, and you froze. That wasn't your mother, the voice was deeper. The sound was still too light to be your father's, though, and that left one option that made your blood run cold. He didn't--did he?

He did. Peter pried the pillow out of your hands, all red cheeks and sad eyes as he stared at you in a sullen silence. "Why are you doing this?" he whispered, "Why are you pushing me away?"

You blinked at him, too paralyzed by the sight of his fluttering eyelids and pouting lips to speak. It must have been a sight to see you like that, your face red and blotchy, streaked with tears and snot that you'd been too lazy to wipe away. He didn't look away from your eyes, though, gazing into them with an intensity that dared you to look away.

Sensing that you weren't going to speak, he pressed on, "(Y/N), what is going on? I don't--It's okay if you don't like me back, I can deal with that. I want to be your friend, though. I thought you wanted to be mine, too."

Voice scratchy, you muttered, "I don't."

Something changed in him, and suddenly Peter was raking a hand through his hair as he frowned deeply. You wanted to smooth the crease between his brows, but you felt frozen. He was angry; he was angry with you, and he didn't hold back as he snapped, "That's bullshit, and you know it. If you didn't want to be friends, then why did you make that deal? Why did you let me make a complete fool of myself just to get your attention? Why did you let me introduce you to my friends? Stop lying to me!"

"I'm not!" you yelped, sitting up frantically and wiping at your face, finally. "I'm not lying, Pete!"

He threw his head back at the nickname, a sigh of exasperation forcing its way from his lips, nostrils flared. "I don't get you, (Y/N). I don't get you at all." he growled, facing you again with a heavy brow.

You gripped your blankets tightly, bunching them around your waist as you blinked at him with wide eyes. "I don't want to just be your friend, Peter!" you burst, "I don't want to just be your friend, and I don't know why. You make me feel all these things that terrify me, but I keep chasing after you and whatever those things are! It was so easy being alone, okay? Then suddenly you came swinging into my life and made everything so--so complicated!"

Your mother's face peered into your room, eyes blown wide in surprise, but the moment you glanced at her she backed away with a bitten smile and you flushed. You didn't get the chance to dwell on the fact that she'd been eavesdropping, though, because Peter sat on the edge of your bed and bit the inside of his cheek, blinking at you with teasing eyes.

"So, you like me?"

Eyes narrowed, you grumbled, "Are you really going to make me say it, Pete? After all of that?"

A sly grin stretched across his lips, cheeks puffing out adorably and making you bite your own to keep from grinning too. He tutted, raising his ruffled brow as he jabbed, "After everything else today? I think it's the least you could do."

You were screwed. His fingertips barely caressed the backs of your knuckles, and you shakily grabbed them before he pulled away again. "I like you, jerk." you mumbled, screwing your eyes shut as you felt your face burn in embarrassment.

Peter just chuckled, squeezing your hand as you felt your bed shift under his weight. "I don't want to just be your friend, either." his breathe fanned over your cheek, and your eyes snapped open to find his face closer than ever. If you just turned, ever so slightly, his lips would brush your own... He kissed your cheek softly, backing away with a tiny smile that you matched. "I like you a lot. Probably more than like, really."

"That scares me." you whispered, eyes still latched onto his, "Peter, you scare me."

He took a long moment to answer, weighing heavily the words he would utter next, before finally telling you, "You scare me, too, but I think it's worth it."

A gentle tapping at your door crashed through the moment, both of your faces burning a deep red as you turned to face your mother's sheepish smile. "Sorry, sorry, don't mind me--"

"Mom!" you wailed, slapping your hands over your face in mortification as she stealthily slipped into your room and dropped a box of condoms onto your dresser before racing away again. "Oh, I can't believe she--Mom! Did you really have to do that?"

Peter was laughing boisterously, head thrown back and eyes shut, though you could tell he was flustered too from the cherry red color that creeped down from his face and under his shirt. As humiliated as you were by your mother's actions, you couldn't help but to feel a little grateful for the interruption. The intensity, the tension in the air, had disappeared with the intrusion, and things felt a little bit lighter again.

You flopped back onto your bed, still pouting over the spectacle, as Peter breathed out, "That's so something Aunt May would have done, too."

At least you weren't alone in the embarrassing family department, you thought to yourself as Peter threw himself down beside you. She meant well, obviously, but did she really think that you and Peter were going to go from admitting you liked each other to ripping each other's clothes off in one night? Well, you were eighteen--maybe she had a bit of a reason to be so hasty.

"Do you think it's worth it?" Peter questioned, and you turned your head to face him, trying to ignore the close proximity of his face to your own. "Liking me?"

You chewed at your lip, listening for that voice in your head that had suddenly gone silent. "Yeah, yeah I do." you responded, and his face split in a blushing smile. You did think it was worth it, because being with him reminded you of all the good feelings you missed out on when he wasn't around. "I just wish we could have been like this before. Maybe then I wouldn't feel like I'm stealing her life."

He grew serious in an instant, eyebrows furrowing as he stated, "I don't." At the sight of your confusion, he continued, "I don't wish we met before. Can you honestly say that you're the same person you were before?"

"No."

He nodded, "Exactly. Stuff like that... It changes you. I would know, remember? You wouldn't be the you that I like, and if Uncle Ben were here maybe I wouldn't be who you like, either."

You had to admit, he had a point. "I guess so." you pondered aloud.

"You're not stealing her life, either, (Y/N). She would have wanted you to be happy, to do all the things she never got to. It took me a long time to stop thinking that way, too, but I did. It wasn't your fault, and you can't miss out on stuff just because of her." Peter advised, and you swallowed down the lump that was growing steadily in your throat, "She didn't give up her life for you to stop living yours."

Fuck, Peter really knew exactly what to say. You, however, were at a loss for words. He said all of the things that you'd needed to hear for so long, so perfectly, and it rocked you to your core. How did he know just what you needed to hear? The answer was simple--because he knew you, and he knew how you were feeling. He knew, because he had lived it.

Changing the subject, you asked, "So, what do we do now?"

You didn't have to explain for him to understand, and he swallowed thickly, "Do you... will you be my girlfriend?"

"Yeah. That might be worth it."

He scoffed, "Might be? Forget it, I don't want you to be my--"

"I want to be your girlfriend, Pete!" you cut him off, laughing loudly. "I really, really want to." So, maybe you lied when you said that Peter made things complicated. In fact, Peter made things incredibly easy--and that made it worth it.

SERIES TAGLIST {ask to be added}:

@msmimimerton @zendayasfwb @sweet-symphony @cherthegoddess @justsomebodyweird