#i think these people ALWAYS wind up cracking under the pressure too they came for a show Centered on gaming

[thewingedwolf]

i think showmances are fine, i think someone wanting to be in a showmance is also fine BUT only if they want to win more than be in a showmance. moving these people who auditioned for love island onto bb is so annoying because a showmance CAN help your game and be part of your strategy but if you’re not smart enough to move the both of you through the game, it makes for some of the most obnoxious gameplay we’ve ever been subjected to and some these kids, they are not making it!!!

[filmtv2022]

By Your Side: Chapter Seventeen (18+ Minor DNI) 

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Masterlist

Pairing: Rhett Abbott x Reader 

Chapter Summary: Rhett finds himself struggling with the distance that seems to stand between what he wants and what feels is possible given the circumstances. While Y/N finds herself thinking about the past and the day that marked the beginning of the end for her and her family. Rhett and Y/N find their way back to each other, even if it is only temporarily. 

Summary: Returning to Wabang was never something that Y/N had planned on, but with the loss of her father leaving her the sole owner of her family’s farm she must go back. Time spent at home forces Y/N to face the people she left behind. Will Y/N be able to navigate the murky waters of her past and present as the lines between them blur? 

Warnings: mentions of illness + steamy/spicy (kind of smutty scene) + language 

A/N: First up, the italicized section is a flashback memory. Gosh, yet again, I had myself feeling all sorts of things with this chapter. And on top of that, I am genuinely terrified for the next couple of parts of the story. Here's to a good moment before things get difficult again.

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Rhett’s voice cracked as he finished reading the letter. Reaching out, he enveloped you as he saw your body start to give way under the immense emotional weight you were carrying. Securing you in the safety of his arms, he held your head to his chest as you cried, the rough fabric of his coat collecting your tears as he tried to still your shaking. Burying his nose in your hair, his lips brushed the crown of your head as he pressed you closer to him. The letter was still held in his hand while he stood guard as your protector. Holding you like this brought back memories for Rhett that he’d tried so hard to forget in the intervening years. 

By the time you’d collected yourself enough to breathe normally the rest of the people who’d attended Trevor’s funeral had cleared out of the cemetery. The wind whipping through the dead foliage was the only sound to be heard. Catching up with yourself, you pulled back and wiped your tears with the heel of your hand. Rhett’s hands adjusted position so that they were resting on your waist and your cheek, the pressure gentle, but firm as he wasn’t ready for this moment to pass. Your palms landed on his chest as his head dipped down, his warm breath drifted over your face as he mustered up the courage to speak. 

“I shouldn’t have let you say that you were with me that night. I... I froze. And what I said to Joy about the phone calls and James… that never should’ve happened. I’m so sorry, Y/N.” 

Your face turned up to meet his, your lips ghosting over his as you took in his apology. Having him close like this clouded your brain, and it made it easier somehow to forget the reality of the situation. But the longer you resisted, the faster the truth of everything came crashing back. 

“Rhett, I love you, but this shit you’re wrapped up in with your family, I can’t get caught in it too. Not if it means…” Your words got caught in your throat, the thought of saying your fear out loud too much to handle, “I just can’t, I’m sorry.”

“I know.” 

Tearing yourself from his arms, you walked away as calmly as you could. But no matter the distance and circumstance you could feel the connection between you two. Rhett’s eyes never left you, his focus staying on you until he could no longer see the truck. Folding the letter in his hand, he shoved it into a pocket before taking off to join his family at the gathering. 

…………………………..

Not in the mood, and truly done with playing pretend around people he simply didn’t give a shit about, Rhett stayed only long enough to say he’d gone. Storming back to his truck, he tore out of the lot and headed back to the Abbott ranch. Sitting in the driver’s seat, he found himself reflecting on you. His feelings for you hadn’t dimmed, it had always been you… it would always be you. And yet here he was losing you again. Sniffing sharply to clear the tears, he leaned over to the glove box and reached inside. Hesitantly, he took out the box, opening up and removing the smaller container. Running his fingers over the outside, he flipped it open, the ring glistened in the light coming through the windshield. 

Climbing out of the truck he tucked the ring box into the hidden pocket of his jacket, there he could feel its hard outline on his chest above his heart. He knew it wouldn’t be long before his family was home, and he didn’t have the strength to face them again tonight… not without you. Climbing up the stairs to the second floor, Rhett made his way to his bedroom, locking the door behind him to ensure he wouldn’t have to deal with any unwelcome intrusions. 

………………………..

The next morning started with an unwanted wake-up call. Insistent pounding on his door forced Rhett out of bed. Groggy from sleep, he made his way over to investigate who was behind the nose. Undoing the lock, he ripped open his bedroom door only to find his brother standing on the other side. 

“What the hell do you want, Per?”

“Dad says we’ve gotta get goin’ on replacing those boards on the holding pens.” 

“I thought the two of you were gonna do it.”

“Yeah, well… he... he changed his mind I guess.”

“Fine, I’ll be down in a minute.” 

Shutting the door in Perry’s face, he quickly turned to get ready. Before long he found himself working in uncomfortable silence with his brother, the thwack of hammers hitting wood making up for the lack of conversation. He could tell by the way Perry kept glancing over at him that he wanted to say something, but was at a loss for how to begin. Rhett prayed that Perry would just keep his mouth shut because there wasn’t a single thing he could say at this point that would actually make things better. But as always, Rhett’s prayers went ignored as Perry finally mustered the gumption to speak.

“Hey, the other night with Joy, I should’ve figured somethin’ different to tell her. I fucked up, sorry.” 

Maybe it was the nonchalant way in which Perry spoke, but something about his words sent anger flashing through Rhett. 

“Well, I fucked up, too, didn’t I?” 

“How’s that?”

“I was dumb enough to help you in the first place. And now… I’m gonna lose Y/N all over again because of it.” 

Slamming the crowbar in between the boards, Rhett tried his best to release his anger but found that it just kept growing as Perry continued to talk. 

“Hey. There’s no way I’m gonna let you go down for this, and you’re not gonna lose Y/N. Okay?” 

Wrenching the crowbar out of its spot, Rhett stepped away from his brother, tearing the rotted board away from the posts before letting it drop to the ground. There was nothing more to be said, at least not at that moment. Falling quiet again, Rhett returned to his work. Perry caught on to the shift this time and made the wise decision to keep his mouth shut. 

…………………………

The day after the funeral you found yourself trying anything to keep your mind off of Rhett. Moving from room to room you assessed what remained of your parent’s stuff, taking note of what you’d need to take care of before leaving, and what could be sold with the house. Having finished with the main rooms, you decided it was time for a break. Heading outside, you stood at the edge of the porch, and inhaled deeply, listening to the wind chimes tinkle lightly in the breeze. Letting your eyelids shut, you tipped your face to the sky basking in the freedom of the open air. 

You weren’t sure how long you’d stood on the porch, but the wind picking up forced you back inside where you wandered into the living room. Easing yourself down onto the couch, you picked up the photo album you had placed there earlier during your survey of the house. You’d flipped through many of the others before placing them into a plastic tote that would be easy to take with you when you were finally ready to leave. But this one, you hadn’t yet been able to bring yourself to open. Smoothing your hand over the cover, the fabric felt soft under your touch. Resting it on your lap, you cast your eyes across the room to your father’s chair. If you closed your eyes you could almost hear him sitting there grumbling at the TV as the football game played, and in the background, your mom’s beautiful voice followed melodically along with the lyrics to some country song as she cooked in the kitchen. 

Fiddling with the edge of the album, you sat staring blankly around the room, memories from the past filling your mind. Time continued to move by as you were lost in thoughts of days gone by. Cracking open the book you thumbed through the pages, hovering over each as if by touching it you could travel back to that very moment. You were surprised with how well you were holding up as you continued to reminisce, but that steadiness came to end when flipped to the next page. There it was, the picture that’d kept you from doing this earlier.  

Caressing the bubbled tape that held the corners of the photo down, a lump formed in the back of your throat as you fought against the memory. The image before you marked what would become the tipping point of devastating change for your family. Taken the day your mother delivered the truth about her illness, the juxtaposition of the smiles gracing your faces and the reality that would be handed down just hours later was crushing to think about. There you were after your latest rodeo win, your mother’s arm resting on your shoulders as the two of you grinned for the camera. And there was Rhett, on your other side, mirroring your pose. Closing your eyes, you returned to that day for the first time in many years. 

The announcer’s voice echoed through the crowd as you and Rhett stood posing for a picture with your mothers. It had been a successful day for the both of you, and on any other day, it would be time to celebrate. Breaking free from the camera’s gaze, you turned to your mom in the hope of begging for permission to spend the rest of the day with Rhett and the rest of the Abbott family. You could feel that Rhett was no longer lingering behind you as you posed the question to your mother. 

“Hey, momma, do you think it’d be okay if I went with Rhett and his family this afternoon? I promise I’ll be home by curfew this time.”

You noticed the look that flashed between your mother and father who had been behind the camera just moments ago. Looking back at your dad you waited for him to speak as it quickly became clear that your mom was not going to answer. 

“So, can I go?” 

“Ummm, actually Y/N. We…uhh” Clearing his throat to cover the thick sadness in his voice, “We need to have some family time tonight.” 

Normally, this would have been a time of protest for your teenage self, but something in your father’s eyes told you that this was not the time for such antics. Movement out of the corner of your eye caught your attention for a second, it was Rhett and Ceci standing away from you and your family. Their body language was enough to tell you they were also having what appeared to be a serious conversation. 

“Okay. Can I just talk to Rhett for a second?” 

“Sure sweetie, just meet us at the truck.” 

Making your way to Rhett, you saw your parents start the trek back to the parking lot. Your father’s grip on your mom steadied her on the uneven ground. Ceci’s attention snapped to you as you got closer, there was a sorrow in her eyes that terrified you, but now didn’t feel like the time to ask about it. Giving her son a brief hug she excused herself so that the two of you could have a moment together. 

“Hey, so my parents said no to going out to dinner.”

“I figured... we can go another time.”

You’d rarely seen Rhett look like this before, worry etched over every feature. His shoulders slumped as his hands found a home on your body. Raking down your side with one hand, his fingers dug into your hip as the other slipped into your hair. 

“Everythin’ okay?” 

“Yeah. Just call me later, all right?” 

“Sure.” 

You’d barely finished speaking when his lips crashed with yours, the kiss needy in a way you’d never experienced from him. It was as if he was trying to console you with his touch, but you had no idea what could be bringing this on. Breaking apart, his forehead fell to yours as you both collected yourselves. 

“You probably better go catch up with your family.”

“Probably.” 

With that, Rhett pulled back, his stunningly blue eyes catching yours for a moment before he turned away to rejoin his parents. You observed him closely as he walked away, the pit growing in your stomach blooming as you saw his mother embrace him yet again. 

The trip back to your dad’s truck was slow as several people stopped you along the way to offer their congratulations, but eventually, you did make it back. The mood on the ride back to the house was subdued, neither of your parents uttered a single word. 

Now back at home, the sky grew dark with impending rain as the distant sound of rolling thunder rumbled through the air. Your parents moved like ghosts into the house, your worry turning to frustration as they seemed to be avoiding something.

Standing in the kitchen as your mom began to pull out the items for that night’s dinner and your dad sat at the table drinking a beer, you lost it. 

“Is somebody gonna tell me what’s going on? And don’t try to say that nothing’s up because that’s bullshit and you know it!”

“Y/N, watch your language.” Your focus was honed in on your dad as he called you out for the way you were acting, “You will not speak that way in this house young lady.” 

“Then tell me what’s going on!” You pleaded desperately. 

“Y/N, please sweetie, have seat.” 

Your mother’s calm voice halted your anger in its tracks. Her gentle hands guided you down into a seat at the table before moving to sit next to your father, his hand reaching for hers as she sat. Fidgeting in your chair you waited impatiently for either one of them to open up, but it was your mom who finally found the courage. 

“There’s no easy way to say this… the treatments, they’ve stopped working.”

“No, no. That can’t… you said you were feeling better… the doctor said…” You stuttered indignantly toward your mother. 

“I know honey, but-”

Your movement cut her off. Seeing the panic start to roll in, she stood from her seat and started to make her way to you, her arms extended to embrace you. The room closed in around you as your lungs struggled to take in air. The pressure of your mother’s hug should have soothed you, but instead, it sent you reeling. You needed out, if you stayed there you were sure that the walls were going to crush you. Stumbling back from the table, you hurled yourself toward the door, snatching the keys to your father’s truck from the counter on your way out. Throwing the door open, you sprinted away from the house, the rain soaking you to the bone in seconds. Clambering into the cab, you wrenched the keys in the ignition and took off. 

There was only one place you wanted to be right now, and that was with Rhett. Parking in your spot, you pushed your way through the weather once more toward the Abbott home, the lights on the porch glaring bright in the darkness. Inside, Rhett saw you pulling in from where he was standing in the kitchen. He knew exactly why you were here, and he was scared. Scared for you, for your mother and father, and himself because he didn’t know if he had the strength to carry you through what was to come. Dropping the soapy dish in his hand back under the water, he stormed his way to the front of the house and tore open the door just in time to catch you in his arms. Your body weight slammed against him hard, throwing him off balance for a second. Righting himself, he fixed his grip on you. Holding onto his shirt, your voice was unsteady as you tried to vocalize the cause of your anguish. There were no tears, just pain. 

“My mom…” You couldn’t finish, but that didn’t matter.

“I know, Y/N… I know.” 

A deafening boom of thunder rattled the windows in their panes and broke you from your thoughts. You weren’t sure when the storm had rolled in, but it didn’t matter as you had no plans of leaving the house. Picking yourself up from the couch, you sat the album down next to where you’d been sitting before heading to the kitchen for some food. Passing by the front door you halted in your tracks as the sound of loud knocking hit your ears. Taking a few more steps, you looked out to find Rhett’s truck obscured by the heavy sheets of rain that were pouring down. 

For just a brief second you hesitated, unsure if you had the emotional capacity to deal with seeing Rhett, but something in your gut told you to answer the door. Slowly, you opened it, exposing yourself to the harsh wind and blowing rain, and there he was looking like a disheveled mess, his clothes stuck to his body from the elements. Coherent thoughts illuded you at the sight of him standing before you looking wrecked and wild.

“Rhett, what are you doing-” 

You didn’t have time to think as he crashed into you, his strong frame flush with your body as his hands roamed over your curves. He sighed into your mouth as he begged for more which you willingly gave. The taste of tobacco and beer on his tongue. You felt him shove the door shut with his foot before turning you around and pushing you against it. Sliding your hands up his chest, you tugged at the shoulders of his jacket, urging him to take it off. Understanding what you wanted, he shrugged off the jacket and tossed it to the side. The dampness of his clothes began to soak through yours as he pressed himself back into you and kissed down your neck. 

The warmth of your fingertips on his skin as you rucked up the hem of his shirt sent shivers down his spine. A groan vibrated through his chest as he felt you skimming along his abs. Shifting your weight forward, you pushed away from the door and headed toward your room. Rhett followed swiftly, the flashing of lightning leading the way across the house. 

Standing just inside your room, the feeling palpably shifted. The desperation from before was masked by the raw emotion that flowed through you both. The crackling light coming in through the window highlighted the heaving of Rhett’s chest as he stood before you. Looking up into his eyes, you leaned into his palm as it came to tenderly hold your cheek. Grasping the hem of your t-shirt you pulled it over your head before pawing at his, encouraging him to take it off. Reaching up behind his head, Rhett peeled the shirt from his wet skin, the weight of the fabric causing a light thump as it hit the floor. Reverently, the two of you removed the remaining barriers between yourselves. Closing your eyes, you gave into his touch.

Sliding his hands down your body, he gripped the back of your thighs, lifting you. Wrapping your legs around his waist you relaxed into him as he laid you back onto the bed. The mattress dipped under his weight as he propped himself on top of you. Brushing away the strands of hair that had fallen into his face, you burrowed your hand into his hair, gently bringing his lips to yours. 

The rest of the world fell away as the two of you devoured each other. Needy gasps and moans filled the space and took the place of words to communicate the depth of what you felt for each other. Tears welled in your eyes as Rhett brought you over the edge, pleasure mixing with the overwhelming wholeness you felt in his arms. For Rhett, he lost himself in the feeling of you. It was too much feeling you everywhere all at once, and yet it wasn’t enough. Being with you like this reaffirmed just how sincerely he needed by his side, not just now, but always. 

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@lostinthefandoms11

@hope-love-equality2

@eugene-emt-roe

[quinncupine]

May I request Alpha Bakugo, Midoriya, and Todoroki (seperate) always protecting their Omega reader? How would they react if another alpha tried to claim the omega? Likee hmm say for example the two are walking on the street then another alpha just jumps in and talks about like how attractive reader's scent is and stuff! It is alright if youre not comfortable with writing with this many characters, this ABO au, or this idea in general!

Notes: Hi Anon! I’m so sorry this took longer than expected to do! I promise I didn’t forget you! I don’t really know much about the ABO au so I had to do a bit of research first. I’m not really sure if I landed it though, but I did have fun writing it! It’s always fun to try out something new, so I do hope you enjoy it! I also tried to keep it gender-neutral.

Warnings: Language, mild violence, slight blood, possessive behavior, Alpha-Omega au, drinking-drunken behavior

Word Count: ~2.7K

Wanna request something?

...

BAKUGO

Katsuki is the definition of aggressive. It's no surprise he'd be just as aggressive as an Alpha, especially when it came to you. Your mere presence was enough to send him into ultra possessive protective mode.

The two of you were heading back to your shared apartment after one of your weekly date nights. Since he was a pro hero, he didn't often have much free time, so he set aside a specific night each week, just for you. He wasn't the best at showing his love through words, so his actions more than made up for the fact.

A muscled arm wrapped around your waist as the two of you walked through the deserted street. The ground seemed to be swaying a bit, or that might've just been you. One drink too many could do that. Katsuki warned you not to drink so much, but you didn't listen and as much as he complained that he wouldn't carry you home, he still held most of your body weight up by a single firm hand.

"I love you," you cooed, dropping your head into his shoulder with a smile.

His hand tightened around you and a cocky grin spread across his face. "I know."

With a slight pout, you huffed, "say it back."

The tiniest roll of his eyes before he grabbed your chin with his free hand and tilted it up so he could look into your eyes. You were about to question him but his lips silenced you with a deep kiss. "You know I do." He tried to sound annoyed, but you could see straight through it.

He wouldn't be caught dead being this sentimental with you if anyone else was nearby, especially if another Alpha was near. To him, acting like that opened someone up for weakness, and with you on the line, he would never allow that. But since it was just the two of you alone, he allowed himself to show just a slight bit of passion. These little moments were reserved solely for you.

Wrapping your arms around him as much as you could, you let out a heavy sigh with sleepy eyes. The peaceful night air had a bit of a chill to it, but that was nothing compared to the heavenly warmth radiating from his body. That was until you felt his whole person stiffen.

Confused, you looked up. Then the smell hit you. Another Alpha's scent. Even in your hazy state, it smelled overwhelming, intentional…and all-too aggressive. It literally smelled like trouble. You'd had trouble in the past with other Alpha's coming on way too strong, which was one of the reasons why you were so grateful to have found Katsuki. He doesn't put up with any bullshit and isn't afraid to fight others off.

Katsuki's nails dug into your waist, his feet abruptly coming to a stop. Jaw clenched so hard, teeth nearly cracking from the pressure. Ruby-red eyes narrowed into deadly slits. A vicious snarl itching to see some action. It was a sight you were used to seeing from him. Criminals and heroes alike tried to avoid that exact look he was wearing right now.

Plenty of Alpha's had tried to come onto you in the past, but none have been so bold as to outright try to challenge Katsuki, especially in the dead of night on some deserted street. The moment they got a whiff of that dangerous heady scent, dripping with aggression and possessiveness, they immediately backed off. He didn't know the meaning of mercy.

When you turned your head to pinpoint the source of the scent, he twisted around first, swinging you to his back in one easy motion. The street looked empty from where you poked your head around his arm.

"Get lost fuckwad," he growled, "or die."

The shadows shifted and a man clad in loose black clothes that blended into the darkness so well you were having a hard time keeping your eyes on him. It was only when he stepped into the glow of a streetlamp from a block away did you finally see him clearly. He casually crossed his arms behind his head. A way of showing Katsuki that he wasn't threatened in the slightest. Even a full block away the poignant smell of him invaded your nose.

"What a temper on this one," he purred with a sultry charm guised to disarm, a complete contradiction of his hostile scent. "You know babe, you'd be much better off with me."

"Don't fucking talk to them," Katsuki snapped, fingers digging into the fabric covering your arm. "Or I'll kill you."

"It's not worth it," you tugged on his jacket a bit. "Let's just go."

Even as you said it, you knew it was pointless. Katsuki never backs down from a fight. Violence is ingrained in his DNA.

"Gonna take orders from an Omega? At least I know how to keep them in place, like a real Alpha," he smirked, crossing the street. A deep growl rumbled in Katsuki's chest, but the other Alpha ignored it. "Can't you smell it? I could smell their scent three blocks away."

You were on suppressants but alcohol is notorious for diluting their effect and of course, you had to show him up and drink more than him tonight. Was your scent out of control? You didn't think so and Katsuki hadn't said anything about it all night. You couldn't smell it, but if that Alpha had followed you all this way, it must've been strong.

As the Alpha drew closer, you realized just how bulky the man was. He stood taller than Katsuki by almost a foot and that grin stitched into his face was making you nervous. The whole situation was stressing you out so much Katsuki could most likely smell it comes off you in waves. His bright vermillion eyes found yours and he huffed. That instinct to protect was warring with his compulsion for reckless abandon. Before he could say anything, the Alpha made the first move.

With a snap of his teeth, the burly man took off towards Katsuki and Katsuki didn't waste a second. He pushed you back and charged. The two met in a head-on collision. A bright explosion lit up the darkened street with an echoing boom. When the light faded and the smoke cleared, Katsuki stood over his opponent, an angry snarl spilling from his grinning face as he smashed his foot into the Alpha's singed back. What was the phrase? All bark and no bite.

Once he was sure the Alpha was down for the count, he trudged over to you. Without a word, he grabbed your hand and pulled you away. After a few minutes, he deemed it far enough and stopped to pull you into his chest, resting his chin on your head.

"The nerve of these assholes," he muttered, eyes still glaring at the soft shadows surrounding them. He wouldn't feel better until you were back home, under his watchful eye. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," you mumbled into his shirt, closing your eyes with a relieved sigh. "I'm always fine when I'm with you."

MIDORIYA

Izuku isn't a typical Alpha. His demeanor is usually quiet and kind so it always surprised most people to find out he was one. Only making sense when he went into battle mode. The sheer ferocity this guy displays while fighting is one of the most intense things anyone will experience. R.I.P any brave soul that decides to challenge him. He gives it his all, especially if it means protecting someone under his care; namely you.

After leaving the theater (yes, Izuku drags you to each new All Might Movie premier, and no, you don't have a choice in the matter) you lean into him, listening to him gush about every detail the movie had gotten right or horribly wrong. This man was a serious fanboy. His voice was soothing to hear to so you could listen to him prattle on forever if you had your way.

The two of you had almost made it to the car when someone stumbled into you. If Izuku hadn't had his arm around your waist, you would've fallen down with the obviously drunk man. He pulled you away from the drunkard and did a quick check to make sure you weren't hurt before turning his attention to the man. "Hey, are you alright buddy?"

"Dammit!" the man groaned as he crawled back to his feet, swaying from side to side once he made it up. "Watch where you're goin'," he slurred out, lips having a hard time forming the words. Then he sniffed and blinked a few times, focusing on you. "Mmm, you smell good."

Izuku stiffened, subtly stepping in front of you, eyes narrowed. "Your drunk, it's time you went home."

"What's a lovely thing like you doing out so late?" he ignored Izuku entirely, puffing out his chest with a sleazy grin. That's when the scent hit you. Strong, mixed with the smell of alcohol. It made your nose wrinkle in disgust. "Come here doll, I can take good care of ya."

A low rumble vibrated deep within Izuku's chest. A warning. A threat. Most sensible Alpha's would've taken the cue, but this guy was far from anything resembling sense. Izuku is, for the most part, a rational Alpha, but when the drunkard stepped closer to touch you, he lost it.

It was so quick, you almost missed it. Izuku snatched the grimy hand, twisted it which in turn forced the man to twist as well, and sent him flying with a powerful kick to the rear. He kicked him so hard the Alpha flew halfway across the parking lot, landing in a small puddle with a loud splash. It took a moment for him to roll over, body still trying to process what just happened before finally falling back into the puddle with a long-winded groan.

Izuku stood rigid, eyes locked on the Alpha who had curled in on himself. He gnashed his teeth a few times trying to even out his huffy breaths. Small sparks of green electricity quietly crackled off his skin.

"Izuku?" you grabbed one of his fisted hands and pulled it close.

He looked down at you, still trying to calm his racing heart. Izuku didn't like to get like this in front of you and that in itself was making him more upset. But a part of him loved the fact that he could protect you so easily and that you took comfort in that fact.

The Alpha, apparently too drunk to remember what just happened, rolled out of the puddle and back to his feet. His back was dripping wet, but he didn't even seem to notice as he staggered off into the night.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, finally turning to you.

You wrapped your arms around his muscly frame, fingertips just barely meeting on his back. "What're you sorry for? You protected me, didn't you?"

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Pride swelled in his chest. A slight tinge rushed to his cheeks so he tucked his face into your neck, nuzzling his nose deep into the crook. Your scent was always so calming and he stayed like that for a minute until he remembered you were both still standing outside the car. "Let's go home."

TODOROKI

Shoto is a strong silent Alpha. He's probably the calmest of the three, but that doesn't mean he won't hesitate to kick anyone's ass if they dare mess with you. He's mastered the evil eye glare and combined with his natural Alpha aura, most steer clear.

You had decided to take a day trip to the next prefecture over to see your friends and had asked Shoto to pick you up from the train station. So, there he was, standing on the platform, umbrella in hand as the rain came down in a steady, freezing pour.

When the train finally pulled in, he scanned the cars until he saw you step out. Even in the heavy rain, he could pick up your scent and it was screaming distress. It confused him until he saw why…or rather smelled why. Stepping out behind you was a lanky man, mere inches from your back. His grinning face was bent next to yours as he talked with you, well more like at you. Large hands ghosted over your hair, taking in heavy whiffs of you. A grimace stuck on your face as you did everything in your power to ignore him, but trying to ignore an Alpha was like trying to ignore a blowhorn to the face. Loud, obnoxious, and completely overwhelming. The longer you ignored him, the more irritated he grew.

Shoto snapped the umbrella closed so hard he almost broke it. He no longer cared about getting wet and used the tip to wedge himself between the crowd of people. The hair on his neck stood on end. The rain on his right side froze the minute it touched his skin while on his left, it turned to steam. He tried to suppress that ball of rage building in the back of his throat, only for an aggravated growl to escape. Anyone who managed to catch his wrathful gaze quickly jumped out of his warpath.

The Alpha placed his hand on your shoulder and that was the final straw. You turned to swat him off, which was apparently the wrong thing to do. He grabbed your wrist and pulled you right up against him, dark eyes narrowed, teeth bared. Panic took over as you struggled to free yourself from his too-tight grip.

An umbrella came out of nowhere, whacking the Alpha right in the nose. He let go of your wrist with a startled yelp, stumbling back a few feet.

Shoto suddenly materialized between the two of you. You'd been so distracted that you didn't even realize you could smell Shoto's scent. But now that he was up close, it was all you could smell. Strong, powerful, and…furious.

"What the fu-AAAH!" With a scream, he toppled over. Both legs were frozen together in a thick column of ice. He hit the ground hard, head smacking on the wet concrete.

Shoto towered over him, shooting that perfected evil eye, face masked in shadows. "Next time," he growled, voice low and terrifyingly calm, "I'd advise not to touch people without their permission." Crouching next to his head, he glanced down at his left hand where a small flame erupted, and despite the pouring rain, only seemed to grow brighter. "Or you might get burned."

The man wisely stilled, eyes wide. "I didn't know they already had a mate dude, I swear."

"Regardless, don't ever let me catch you treating someone like that again," he snapped his hand closed, extinguishing the flame. "Is that understood?"

The threat was heard loud and clear but the Alpha glanced at you and Shoto grabbed his chin and pulled his gaze back to him. "Don't ever look at them again."

A nod and Shoto threw his face to the side, standing up. Taking a moment to compose himself again, he turned to you, hunched in on yourself, looking slightly embarrassed. Too many people were staring because Shoto had made a scene. He could care less about what other people thought. Someone had messed with you and he had to make it right.

Holding a hand out, you accepted it and he ushered you away. The both of you were soaking wet but he still opened the umbrella again, shielding you from the rain. Once you were far enough away from the station and other people, he stopped to inspect you.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, looking for any obvious signs or lingering scent marks.

"No, I'm fine." You hugged yourself, not sure if you were shivering from the cold wet or from that creep, possibly both.

With a frown, he pulled you in close. His left side immediately warmed you up and you buried your head as far as you could into his chest, that familiar, safe scent surrounding you. "Thanks, Sho."

That intense anger was slowly ebbing away the longer you held onto him. That need to protect, to comfort taking its place.  You alone were the only thing that seemed to be able to calm him down when he was so worked up. Wrapping his free arm around you, tucking you in as tightly as possible, he kissed the top of your head. "You know I'd do anything for you."

[whimsicallyreading]

For Rowaelin Month day 17

 “A sick day”

CW- PTSD, mentions of violence

Aelin considered herself a fortunate person.

She has survived genocide, her family's murders, losing loved ones, slavery, torture, and the Great War. Now she is a queen, a mother, a beloved Mate.

Her life had changed since those bleak days where she'd wondered if she would ever escape captivity—the days when Aelin didn't know if she would ever be free or find love again. Every morning she woke up curled into Rowan's side, and while she drank her morning tea, Aelin could count on her young daughter snuggling into her lap.

Yes, she was swamped most days, but that was normal for a queen. But even the moments between boring meetings brimmed with life and laughter. Rowan's hand on her thigh beneath the table. Fenrys' theatrics when conversation spiraled off-topic. And even the hardened lords thought it was hilarious when their three-year-old princess barged into councils and demanded her mother's attention.

Her family gathered for dinners at the end of every day. Aelin's little family, Fenrys, Emrys, and Malakai were the regular attendees. Aedion, Lysandra, Elide, and Lorcan joined when they were present. It was a time reserved for family only, and it was by far Aelin's favorite part of the day.

Aelin had a good life now. Her family was growing, and her country thrived beneath her rule.

So it always took her by surprise when a bad day came.

She had woken up fine. Delly had slammed open the chamber door with a gust of wind and squirmed herself between her and Rowan in the early morning. Usually, Aelin treasured the moments when her daughter joined them, but being pregnant again had taken a toll on her sleep.

Rowan tried to stop their child before she entirely collapsed onto Aelin but was a moment too slow. Delly flopped onto her mother's chest in a disarray of wrinkled nightgown and golden curls. Soft sobs were sputtering out of the tiny figure.

I'm sorry. Rowan whispered into her thoughts. He knew how hard pregnancy was on her and took his mate's comfort very seriously. It troubled him that their toddling daughter woke Aelin so abruptly.

Aelin blinks the sleep from her eyes and sends him a happy smile to assure him everything is fine.

"What's wrong, Dell?" Aelin soothes a hand up her baby's quaking form.

Adelia sniffles harder, unable to talk through the tears. She'd started to have bad dreams in recent weeks, but never had she been so inconsolable.

Aelin shifts as Adelia's arms tighten uncomfortably around her bump. Rowan sees her discomfort and reaches around to pull Dell to him instead, but it is met with resistance.

"No," Adelia finally wails. "Mama. I want Mama."

Rowan frowns. Adelia was a daddy's girl to the bone, and this was the first time she'd ever refused to go to him. Their daughter squeezes harder and burrows her face into Aelin's torso.

"Dell," Rowan leans next to her and whispers, a cool breeze brushing against her flushed cheek. "What's wrong little love?"

Adelia lifts her head, and Aelin's heart contracts painfully. Her cheeks are red and swollen from the intensity of her crying, little sobs still stumbling from her chest as Rowan settles her down enough to speak.

"Mama was gone. She was hurt, and she couldn't see me." Dell sniffles, her green eyes glassy. "Can you see me, Mama?"

Aelin tugs her daughter in closer, unable to stand the sight of her so sad. "Yes, of course, I can. I'm right here."

"You were in a box. She wouldn't let me see you," Adelia whimpers in a small voice. "She told me she was gonna keep you. I don't want you to go, Mama."

Aelin's face blanches. It wasn't possible. Her little baby couldn't possibly have seen what was coming to her mind. She looks at Rowan, and his face is pinched with worry.

"It's not real, Dell." Rowan uses a thumb to wipe the tears off her cheek.

Adelia flinches. "Uncle Ress told me it was. He told me Mama had got stollen and put into a box by the bad lady and that she should have stayed there."

Aelin's heart stops. Nausea crawls up her throat, and Rowan tugs Adelia away just in time for her to crawl out of bed and gag into a potted plant. The sickness grips Aelin, the shudders in her arms only growing worse with her daughter's mumbled cries.

"Daddy, I want Mama to stay here." Rowan hushes her and murmurs quiet reassurances. "Don't let her get stollen."

Ress had said that? In front of her daughter? Aelin tries to close her eyes against the visions creeping into her mind. The places her scars used to be ache, and her hands pulse with the remembered pain of reconstruction.

The baby in her womb squirms under its mother's stress, and Aelin throws up again.

She should have stayed there.

Cairn brings the hammer down onto her frail knees, the ringing of cracking bone splits the air.

She should have stayed there.

Aelin opens her eyes to endless darkness. Sweet smoke wafts through invisible holes and sends her to sleep- leaving her mind vulnerable to Maeve's manipulations.

She should have stayed there.

More and more memories swarm behind her eyelids until a pair of grounding arms wrap around her shoulders.

"Fireheart, you are home. You are safe. Can you breathe with me?" Rowan sighs loudly behind her shoulder, and Aelin tries to force her own breath out.

Breathing in is harder, but Rowan's scent fills her nose and loosens the binds on her lungs. Soon, Aelin is doing the exercises independently, and Rowan nuzzles his face into her neck. His hands snake under her bump and lift some of the pressure, easing more of her tension.

"There you are," Rowan kisses her cheek as Aelin comes back around. "Are you okay?"

Aelin shakes her head and sinks into his arms. "Can you take me back to bed?"

Her legs feel like jelly, and her stomach is weak from turning. Rowan lifts her with ease. His arms are warm, and he murmurs sweet nothings into her ear as he carries his mate back to their bed.

"Adelia?" Aelin looks around for their daughter.

Rowan pulls back the duvet and reveals the sleepy from nestled right into the middle of the pillows. "She fell back asleep quickly."

"I can't believe Ress told her those things," Aelin can feel a tear slipping down her face. Ress had never forgiven her for her days as Celaena. Darrow had grown to accept her, but Ress never warmed up to having Aelin as his queen despite her efforts.

She hadn't realized the extent his hatred went.

Rowan scowls as he lays Aelin down next to their daughter. "Ress is young and foolish. I have forgiven a lot of his hostility and ignored most of his juvenile antics, but Aelin, I can't forgive this."

"He should never have said those things to Dell." Ress's words linger in her head. She tried to do right by her title and live up to her parent's legacy. Aelin took a lot of pride in listening to the demands of her people and tending to their problems personally. But the odds of Ress being the only one to feel this way are slim. Did they wish she'd never returned? Was she arrogant to take the crown just because it was her inheritance? She'd never had the formal training as ruler and relied a lot on Rowan to help manage foreign affairs. Despite the loss of her fire, many still feared her and considered her a murderer. No matter how hard she tried, Aelin's history as Adarlan's Assassin proceeded her.

Tears burn Aelin's eyes, and Rowan's scowl deepens. "He should have never spoken of you like that at all."

Aelin shakes her head, "It's his right to think what he wants. Maybe he has a point."

"No." Rowan growls, and Dell flinches in her sleep. Taking a deep breath, Rowan softens his voice. "He's wrong, Aelin. Ress was wrong to scare Dell, and he has no right to demean everything you've sacrificed. You've suffered for your people."

"I closed the lock because I had to Rowan," Aelin argues. "That doesn't automatically make me a good queen. What if I'm failing?"

Rowan pulls their duvet up to Aelin's chin, and Dell instinctively snuggles to her mother's side. Her daughter was a leach for warmth, and Aelin could feel her remaining flames writhing in her veins agitated.

"You are a wonderful ruler, Fireheart." Rowan bends down and kisses her lips reverently. "I've met my fair share of emperors, kings, and queens. None of them have given up so much to better the lives of their people. They care for you in return."

Rowan steps away from the bed, and Aelin makes a displeased noise. "Where are you going so early in the morning."

"I'm awake now. I feel like a flight through Oakwald. Go to sleep, and when you wake up, I'll bring my females breakfast," Rowan pulls on a plain white tunic. "Sleep, love. You both need your rest."

Rowan can read her too well. Aelin can feel her eyes drooping despite how much she wants to deny it. "Very well, but there better be tea and pastries."

As Aelin drifts back to sleep, she swears that a mischievous smile passes across her mate's face.

~~~

"Aelin," Maeve twirls a lock of blonde hair in her fingers. "Where are the keys?"

Cairn twists the blade in her thigh again, and Aelin screams, "screw yourself."

Aelin writhes beneath the pain and the dark queen's gaze. Her torturer goes to twist the blade again, but Maeve holds up a hand. "Wait. There is a smarter way to go about this."

"I won't tell you anything," Aelin gasps, the blood seeping from her thigh pools onto the table. "There is nothing you can do."

"Not even to spare the princess?" Maeve smiles as the cell door opens. Connall walks into the room, a squirming girl in his arms.

"Let me go," the girl screams, and the air in the room turns frigid. Her blonde hair whips around as she twists and fights. The little girl's head turns, and she freezes when she catches sight of Aelin. "Mama?"

"Adelia?" Aelin asks, confused. "You can't be here. You aren't supposed to be here." With renewed energy, Aelin thrashes against her bonds and bares her teeth at Maeve.

Maeve takes Adelia from Connall and strokes her hair. "Such a pretty one."

"This isn't real," Aelin hisses. "I wasn't pregnant when you took me. Adelia was born in Terresan."

Maeve hums a sympathetic note, "It seems you're confused." Aelin fights as the dark queen sits with a frozen Adelia in her lap. "Begin again, Cairn."

A hot iron is lain against Aelin's neck, and Adelia's screams rattle the stone chamber.

~~~

Aelin wakes with a gasp. Her chest is seizing in uncontrollable fits, and little hands cup the sides of her face.

"Mama?" Adelia's concerned face hovers over Aelin's. "Why are you crying?"

Relief washes over her at the sight of her daughter, safe and sound. She tries to take deeper breaths, but her body fights against her. The baby in her womb squirms uncomfortably. Aelin feels guilt that they are so subject to her moods. She tries to open her mouth to speak, consol her frightened daughter, but Aelin can't get any words out.

"Daddy!" Dell screams, frightened tears gathering in the corner of her eyes.

Rowan bursts through the door, "Dell?"

Adelia sniffles and kisses Aelin's face sadly, "Daddy, what's wrong with Mama?"

Aelin grabs at her chest, trying to ease the tightness there. She was scaring her daughter. What kind of mother would do that? Rowan sits beside her, and a cool wind goes up her nose and fills her lungs.

"Fireheart," Rowan lifts Adelia and sits beside her. "Is this a sick day?"

It was the code they'd come up with for the days when the past came back to haunt them. When the turmoil in their mind forces their bodies to rebel, and they can't seem to put on their usual facades. It used to shame Aelin, the days she couldn't rise from bed and do her duty. But her mate's unwavering love soon cracked that lie and eased her burden. Rowan had convincing arguments. Aelin's people needed their queen at her best, and on sick days, she wasn't able to give that to them. Their court was strong. They wouldn't allow Terresan to fall while she recovered. Aelin deserved time to heal.

Rowan must have been able to tell that she wouldn't be able to settle herself this time as his winds continued their push and pull in her chest. "Yes," she rasps dejectedly.

Dell buries her face into Rowan's shoulder. Her mate rests a hand on the side of her face and soothes her cheek. "To whatever end, Aelin. We will get through this just as we do everything else."

Rowan kisses the side of Dell's face. "Little love, do you think you can go to the kitchens and have someone bring Mama tea?"

That fae instinct to fuss rears its head in their child. Adelia perks up at the opportunity to do something useful. "Yes!"

Rowan sets her on the floor, and she takes off in a blur of untamed hair and swishing skirts. They wince as a gust of wind slams the doors of their chambers against the wall.

"She's a handful," Rowan talks, aware of the soothing effect his voice has on her. "But we always knew our children would be. I can't wait to see what kind of chaos our son brings into our lives."

Aelin wraps her arms around him as the remnants of her dreams finally fade away. "You think it's a boy?"

"I know so," Rowan pinches her side, and Aelin smiles. He'd also been confident that their first child would be a girl. His smugness after Adelia's birth was unbearable.

"Rowan," Aelin whispers. "Can we just lay here today?"

"I could never deny you anything," Rowan leans against their headboard and kicks off his shoes. "You don't need to ask, Aelin. It's okay to take time for yourself."

"What if I'm just proving Ress right?" The insecurity slips from her lips before she can stop them. "What if there is someone more capable?"

"Ress won't be a problem anymore," Rowan rests a hand against her bump, and the baby withing kicks at it, bringing a smile to his face.

Aelin narrows her eyes, "What have you done?"

"Nothing that anyone will blame me for," Rowan assures. "He would be in a lot more trouble if the rest of the court learned what he said in front of Dell. Ress should be grateful I didn't do a lot worse."

Aelin sighs, "I don't understand why I can't just let it all go. Why do I allow myself to be so haunted?"

"It's not that simple," Rowan shakes his head. "I'm hundreds of years old, and no matter how many years pass, there are things from my past that haven't healed. The mind is different from the body, and sometimes it takes longer for it to recover. There is nothing wrong with that. You gave up everything for the people you loved."

"Because I had to," Aelin contradicts.

A hardness comes over Rowan, "because no one else could."

Rowan rolls over her body into a plank and looks deep into her eyes. "No one else that day would have made the same sacrifices out of love. Not even me. I was too selfish to let you go. You gave up everything, and by the strength in your soul, you came home to me. In all my decades, I have never met someone so remarkable, and I never will again. Take as many years as you need to recover, Aelin. This world owes a debt to you, and I will make sure it pays. You deserve every happiness."

His hand threads through one of hers and drags it up to rest on the bump between them.

Happiness.

Dell darts back into their room, a cup of tea sloshing in her hands as she runs. "Daddy, I put extra sugar in it. Uncle Fen is coming with more cups, but I made this one special."

Rowan pulls away from her, and the laughter on his face is contagious.  

Aelin smiles and accepts the tea from Dell's hands. She even manages a few sips without cringing from the sweetness. Fenrys follows behind her shortly and sets a fresh cup covertly on her bedside table.

There may be hard days, Aelin realizes as her family gathers around her, but the love they showed her every day made it all worth it.

[ecliptsukki]

his delinquent phase ❧ kaoru sakurayashiki // cherry blossom

navigation | music

➣ genre: fluff

➣ warnings: adam’s existence 

➣ request: can i request a one shot where you’re cherrys s/o and like childhood best friends with joe and cherry and adam and you’re gushing over cherrys old bad boy look with piercings and everuthing and cherry one day goes to S with his piercings and hair the same way as before just to see you fawn over him skjfks

➣ a/n: this took me three times to type up because the first two times i did it, tumblr thought it would be funny to delete it. i’m not sure if i love how this came out, but it’s still better than my original plan. hopefully this was correct to what the anon requested. enjoy!

ps: i’m also going to be going on a trip for four days tomorrow, so i’m not sure if i’ll be able to post. i’ll definitely try to start working on my other requests!

You had known Joe, Cherry, and Adam ever since the four of you were in high school. Out of the three, you had met Joe, first, not soon before you met Cherry.

You were walking down the eventful streets of Okinawa, admiring the sights and getting accustomed with the area. You had moved to the city not too long ago and already were growing attached to the place. In your defense, the city was your perfect and desired location to live in. 

A gentle breeze blew through your hair, rustling the leaves of the green trees. You sighed at the feeling of the cool breeze tickling your warm skin. Not long after that breeze had gone, another, harsher breeze blew past you. You flinched at the abnormally sharp wind, snapping your head to the side, in its direction. You were met with honey red eyes and short, green locks, swaying. 

The male slips past you, stopping abruptly.

“Sorry about that,” he smiled, embarrassed, “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You were in awe, seeing what the boy was standing on, and on alert because you had always been taught to be cautious around strangers, especially when you were walking alone. 

“Um, no. I’m alright, just shocked,” you shrugged, replying quietly.

Another harsh, but gentler than before, wind blows past you, revealing a pink-haired male. He had three piercings on his ear and one on his lip. Half of the boy’s face was hidden by his long bangs, allowing your focus to lock on his golden eye.

“Watch where you’re going,” he snaps at his green-haired friend. “Sorry about him,” he apologizes, giving you a polite smile.

All the sirens were going off in your head.

He has so many piercings! Is he a delinquent? Are both of them delinquents? If they are, I can’t fight them off on my own. What do I do?

“I’m Kaoru,” the bubblegum-haired male suddenly said, “This is Kojiro.”

Kojiro nodded at you, an embarrassed blush still grazing his cheeks. 

“Hey, aren’t you the new kid?” Kaoru asked, finding your puzzlingly familiar.

“Oh, that’s why I felt like I’ve met you before,” Kojiro spoke up, nodding his head when he realized who you were.

Awkwardly, you shyly respond, “Sorry, I can’t seem to remember seeing you guys at school. Are you in my class?”

Until dusk, the three of you talked, getting to know the each of you better. You were also able to befriend the boys you were so afraid of, becoming your first two friends in the city.

You met Adam in the dark of night, beside Cherry and Joe.

They had brought you along, one night, wanting to skate with you. You already knew the basics of skating, nothing more, nothing less. Therefore, as your closest, and only, friends, they wanted to get further acquainted with you in something they loved. 

“Who’s the sweet cheeks?” His hoodie-covered eyes left an eerie pressure on you, causing goosebumps to emerge from your skin.

“This is our close friend, Y/N L/N,” Cherry spoke up.

“She goes to school with us, and we wanted to bring her skating. Mind her tagging along?” Joe asks his hooded friend.

“Not at all, just as long as she can keep up,” he spoke in a cocky tone.

The pretentious attitude the unnamed face had was irking you in the wrong way. He seemed too mysterious for your liking. A third of the boy’s face was hidden in the shadow of his hoodie, leaving you only able to see the blue tips of his hair and his structured nose. 

He must’ve noticed your timid stare because he looks at you, under his hood, “Call me Adam.”

 Cherry and Joe look at you expectingly.

“Just call me sweet cheeks, for now,” you reply, distantly, not ready to let your guard down just yet.

You hear your two friends sigh, chuckling to each other.

“Don’t worry, she’ll warm up to you, soon,” Cherry told Adam, “We know firsthand how she is with meeting new people.”

You blush, remembering your first encounter with the pair.

Thinking back, you still regret letting your walls down and accepting Adam as a friend. Not a day goes by that Adam doesn’t linger in your mind, as much as you’d hate to admit. 

You despise that man with a passion. From your first interaction, you should’ve known that there was something off about the blue-haired male, but pondering on these frustrations now wouldn’t change anything. As much as you’d like to curse the man for hurting your friends’ and your feelings, you knew you had to move on.

You sat on the soft mattress of your shared bed, scrolling through old pictures stored on your phone. You saw pictures taken by Kaoru when you guys went on dates. Majority of the photos were candid, seeing as he always had told you that you were the “most photogenic woman” he had ever met.

You remember the day he had told you that. You also remember your laughed reply.

“Then you’ve got the whole world to explore, my love.”

Although, honestly, you thought Kaoru was quite the photogenic one himself. His gorgeous, sorted, pink hair matched with his golden eyes and perfect face never looked bad, not even at the crack of dawn or in the late of night. 

Speaking of which, you scrolled upon a photograph of Kaoru sitting all pretty with his piercings on display. Those piercings brought back many memories, humorous and lustful.

Ironically, the thing that brought you fear before now brings you yearning.

Honestly, once you had befriended Kaoru and came to trust him, the piercings no longer frightened you but instead, fascinated you. Those metal hoops further increased your attraction to the ponytailed man, leading you to the relationship you were in now.

Obviously, Kojiro played a big role in setting the two of you up together because both of you were completely oblivious to the other’s feelings. It got to the point that Adam almost had to step in and wack some sense into the both of you.

Anyways, ever since Kaoru had started working in the calligraphy business, he removed his piercings to maintain a professional image. You detested the idea, but you also knew that it was the best for his business. 

Now that you were looking back at photos of Kaoru as a teenager, you began to crave seeing him in those metal rings once more. You missed the “bad boy” look your boyfriend used to have, not that you didn’t appreciate how he looked now. It’s just that there’s a different vibe to his current and past aesthetics.

As you stalked through more pictures of teenage Kaoru, you were unaware of the very man you were thinking about watching you. He noticed the longing and craving in your gaze. Then, he caught a glimpse of what was being projected on your screen: it was him but in his teenage years. 

Suddenly, everything clicked for Kaoru, and he had the perfect plan in mind.

Something was off. Usually your boyfriend would insist on bringing you to “S” himself but not today. If anything, he was urging you to go with Kojiro.

“He’s been your friend for the same amount of time as I. You should take this time to your advantage and catch up,” was Kaoru’s excuse.

First of all, catch up on what? It’s not like you haven’t talked to Kojiro in months. Actually, you talked to him a day ago, at “S.” Secondly, what’s up with the sudden lenience and weak excuses?

Joe, who was also in on the plan, tried to help his friend out, making a feeble attempt to lure you with free food.

“I can get free food from you whenever I want,” you replied, squinting suspiciously at your friend.

“Not with that attitude, you can’t.” That pulled a raised brow from you and a regret-filled face from the muscular man.

Though you weren’t fully convinced that nothing was off, you still left with Joe, caving into their terrible attempts of covering up whatever they were hiding from you.

You had arrived at “S” with Joe for about ten minutes now, but there was still no sightings of your beloved, Cherry. Joe caught glimpse of your searching eyes and reassured you that he would be coming, be it later than usual.

Reki, Langa, and Miya had made their way over to you, sparking up a conversation with you, making you forget about the missing presence of a specific male. 

Miya was explaining the new training regiment and diet he was to use in order to advance his strength, leading you to worry for the small teenager. If he didn’t eat enough, it could become fatal to him. You didn’t understand why a child was being treated so harshly by his managers, forcing him to eat barely anything and train long hours of the day. 

You were concernedly asking Miya if he was feeling alright and offered him an energy bar you carried around in case of emergencies, which he gratefully accepted, when you heard the cheers of fangirls behind you. Knowing they weren’t meant for Joe, you turned around to meet the golden eyes you’d fallen in love with.

This time, there was something different. His face wasn’t hidden by his mask. You could see the pale skin of his cheeks and the pink of his lips. Besides the absence of the black cloth, you noticed metallic rings decorating your boyfriend’s lip and ears. Also, his hair wasn’t whipping behind him, as per usual, but laid low, drifting in the wind.

For a hot moment, you had thought you had finally lost it, but when you blinked your eyes, looking at Miya then back to Cherry, you realized you were still sane and your boyfriend still looked like he aged back into his high school days.

“Is that Cherry?” Miya asked from beside you.

You nodded, speechless.

You heard someone let out a loud laugh beside you, “Since when did he have piercings?”

Ignoring the redhead’s outburst, you were mesmerized by the Cherry you had been obsessing over a couple days ago. It felt like one extravagant dream that you didn’t want to wake up from. In your defense, as he stepped of his skateboard, coming to embrace you, he looked straight out of a fantasy. His skin was practically glowing, and his hair gently floated perfectly onto his shoulders.

“Hello, darling,” he spoke in a sultry voice, placing a soft kiss to your forehead as he held you in his muscular arms.

“K-Kao—” you quickly realize your soon-to-be mistake and fix it, “Cherry.”

His eyes shrink as he laughs, endearingly, admiring the flustered and confused look you were portraying.

“Is this why you and Joe were being so weird earlier today?” You asked, cheek pressed against his slim, toned chest.

“Indeed, my love. What do you think? Definitely brings back some memories of the old days,” he lifts your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes.

“I love it. It’s perfect. You’re perfect,” you smile brightly, eyes lustrous. Pushing yourself up on your toes, you whisper into his ear, “You also look really hot.” You quickly pull away, turning a vibrant red.

“I think you broke her,” Joe told his friend, placing a heavy hand on the pink-nette’s shoulder.

After the supposed one occurrence surprise, you began to avidly ask him to wear his piercings, loving how attractive and domineering he looked in them. If he denied, you would ask him to, at least, tie his hair in the relaxed half up half down hairdo. He didn’t mind the different hairstyle as much as he did the piercings so it became a normal look for him. The only times he would willingly put on his piercings were when he was going to “S” or when the two of you were safe in the comfort of your own home, for research purposes.

[bloodycassian]

darkness defined - 

az or cass x reader idk if this makes sense or not but here we go, either az or cas POV where reader (their mate) was stuck under the mountain with rhys and doesn’t come back bc she is still locked in the dungeons (rhys just assumed she died, he doesn’t know she is still alive)  Switch to readers POV, a few months later where they think their mate and their family (the night court) has abandoned them bc nobody ever came looking for her. Reader is like on the verge of death and uses her last energy to send a pulse down the bond. Switch back to az or cas POV  who are basically freaking out with guilt and anger and worried-ness. Im sorry it’s super long don’t feel pressured to write this anytime soon idk if it even makes sense  

DONT APOLOGIZE FOR BEING SPECIFIC! I LOVE WORKING WITH THIS KIND OF STUFF PLEASE DO MORE LOL

Cassian was a wreck. From the moment Rhys came home alone, and until the end of time it seemed to be. Azriel sighed, watching his brother down his second bottle of alcohol. His eyes were red, face gaunt and pale. The circles under those tortured eyes looked more like bruises. 

He hadn't talked to Rhys much since the news came that you were gone. Cassian had practically blown the roof off the house of wind, then disappeared for two weeks. The only reason Rhys had let him was because Az followed, far behind just to make sure he wasn't going to do anything drastic. 

Azriel watched his brother circle the mountain, only to have to turn away. Wards made by Helion himself refused entry to anyone while the mountain was still being evacuated of Fae. He glared daggers at the people streaming outside the shield. His heart was a painful stab in his chest constantly. His mate.. gone. He refused to believe it. And Azriel saw the denial there, plain as day. 

Azriel had only stopped him once. When he packed a bag and started his flight to Hybern. He earned a black eye and a verbal lashing for that, but it had saved Cassian from going on a suicide mission.

After a month of being out, he went to his brother. Rhys refused to ask Helion to lower the shields around the Mountain, and finally Cassian seemed to give up. He would have gone to Helion himself, but the wards around his court prevented him from doing so. Rhys was torn up over the entire experience of under the mountain, but losing you was one of the worst parts. He would never forgive himself for losing his brother's mate. 

Azriel watch his brother's eyes get more and more dull. Watched the bottles stack up. Rhys wasn't around much, busy regaining control over his city, getting updated. And keeping an eye on Spring Court.  Cassian sighed when the bitter liquid hit his tongue. He drank like it was salvation. Like it would lead him back to you. Plus, it helped him sleep. It was the only time he could sleep without seeing you, without feeling that pull - the command his instincts gave. "Find me, find me. I'm here. I love you. Please."  He often escaped to the cabin. To not have to talk to anyone, and to keep Rhys from stealing his bottles from him. Cassian was convinced Rhys was saving them to drink for himself. That's where he found himself flying, bottle of booze in hand. The guilt a lead weight in his stomach. 

The door shut, and he finished the first bottle in an hour. 

Mor appeared beside him, took the second bottle from his hand and had a long drink herself. He smiled drunkenly, showing too many teeth at her. He wasn't sure if she was actually glowing or if it was his eyes squinting too much. "Cheers." He slurred, taking the bottle back and downing more.

+ The walls were getting drier and drier with each passing day. The once cool winds that would cut through the stone dungeons were turning softer, warmer. It was a welcome relief, but without the muddy water from the walls...you knew you didn't have much left. Your spirit was crushed, on top of it. Death seemed like not a terrible option anymore.  Especially knowing that your court - your friends - your family had left you. They had just... forgotten. Thrown you aside like nothing. Didn't even try to find you. Like the Winter court skeleton in the cell beside you, just left to die.

  You pushed the thoughts back, knowing that logically that wasn't true. But you couldnt come up with a reason why they would leave you down here. You prayed, you tried sending thoughts down the bond. Nothing worked. Sometimes your mind got the better of you, and you would rush to the bars of your prison cell when you thought you heard faint footsteps. 

Then you would hear your own voice echo back, and no one else.  Eventually you stopped getting up. You let the fantasies keep you entertained while you lay on the floor. Not caring about the bugs that crawled on you. You were glad there wasn't a mirror to see yourself in. A wave of dizziness crashed over you, and you fell into darkness. 

When the water ran dry, you stopped bothering calling out for Cassian. The bond was there, but saturated. Trying to grasp it was like trying to hold wind. You were too exhausted. So you propped yourself up in a corner and let the dizziness pull you under again for a moment. Taking rattling breaths, you let your mind wander to that mind bridge. That once sturdy marble that would always remind you of Cassian. 

You sent out a final tug down that bond. Using the last of your energy, you put all your effort into it. "I'm here, I always will be. I love you. I'm sorry." The platform you imagined your bond being seemed to go dark, and lifeless. Empty.

+ Cassian shot upright, head spinning. Mor was asleep beside him, her feet on the table. He shook her, trying to shake the stupor. "Wake up. Wake up!" She groaned, weakly batting him away. He took a breath, trying to steady himself. He wobbled to the kitchen, dunked his head in the cold sink water and slapped himself a few times. The haziness from his stupor crawled away, slowly. 

Mor appeared in the archway, rubbing her eyes.

"Get Rhys. I need you to winnow us." He demanded, patting her face softly. Her eyebrows knit together but she stretched, and sleepily obliged.  + You assumed the crackling was just your starved imagination. Again. But the wind changed as well, and you tried not to let your hopes up. You weakly opened your eyes, to the same familiar cell. A silent tear slid down your cheek.  Then there were the shuffling of footsteps again, and you hid your face in your hands. It seemed like all the imagination tricks were attacking at once. You wanted it to stop. You wanted nothing more than to just fall asleep until you could see and hold Cassian again. Voices, now.

The sweet deep voice of a man who spoke another language. An ancient language. Your ears rang. You cracked your eyes again, to a blinding white light. You held a hand in front of your face, trying to see behind it. 

A thud, and scrape of metal. Then the scent hit you. It was similar to what you had imagined but somehow a million times better. Then, his arms were around you. "Mother above." He breathed. You would have thought the mother took you at last if it wasnt for the pain in your gut.

"We got you honey, I'm so sorry. Im-" He tried to hold back a sob. You smiled weakly at the familiar, yet different eyes that you loved. The marble platform you shared seemed to be lighting up with happiness. At the same time, crumbling and falling with shame. Anguish. 

Rhys began winnowing the group immediately, nodding to Helion. The high lord gave him a melancholy smile back, and winnowed himself in a flash of light. He would check the rest of the mountain with his forces and repair the wards before he returned to his home. 

Everyone surrounded the healer, watching her work. Mor was trying to stay calm, but her hands shook when she held Amrens. Rhys and Azriel both had jaws clenched, shoulders tense. Watching the way Cassian's tears fell on to your shoulder as he cradled you. The healer squeezed  his arm softly, silently requesting him to move. He didn't.

Azriel went to his brother, wrapping an arm around him. "Your mate needs you to be strong, Cas." He consoled, pulling him away gently. Cassian held you tighter, just for a second then nodded and let go. He held your hand firmly. His warmth missing from your body was a shock. You began shivering. Amren tugged a blanket off the guest couch nearby and placed it over your legs. 

"T-thanks." you muttered. Her eyes widened, but she nodded. Her and Rhys glanced to each other. A silent conversation. You didnt care. 

"Cas?" You squeezed his hand, and there he was. His pale face looked ragged. He seemed like he was struggling in every sort of way. You didnt want to imagine what he was looking at when he looked at your features. You could practically feel your cheeks sinking in, your bones losing their density. "I missed you." You smiled, trying to lift his mood. 

His lips quivered, and he nodded. He kissed the back of your hand. "You wouldnt believe how much I missed you. All of us did." he glanced to Rhys. His face was blank, but that steady stream of power seemed to be crackling outside. 

You let your eyes drift to each of your friends. Each of their tear stained faces were such a welcome relief. Over a month alone, their presence alone was enough to soothe that part of you that doubted their love. 

Cassian kissed your forehead, before the healer's light knocked you into a peaceful sleep. 

[harrypotterhogwartshitpost]

My favorite Beach Bunny lyrics

Ranked from most to least chaotic

(now including Emotional Creature)

---

YOURE ACTING LIKE YOUR DEADBEAT DAD!

IM PISSED OFF N̳O̳ ̳I̳M̳ ̳E̳N̳R̳A̳G̳E̳D̳

CAUSE IM TIRED OF GUESSING ON A BLURRED PHOTO- ARE YOU HANGING OUT WITH SOMONE ł ĐØ₦₮ ₭₦Ø₩

Sometimes I just wanna **̷A̷̷A̷̷H̷̷H̷̷H̷̷H̷̷H̷̷H̷**

WHEN WE'RE ALL ALONE IN YOUR BEDROOM, YOU CAME LIKE A REOCCURING DREAM

Maybe you would know by now IM THE GREATEST THING YOU COULD HAVE

THINK OF ME! ME! ME! 

you got in my pants then left my ass and made me cry

IM SORRY, IM TRYING. I HATE IT WHEN YOU CATCH ME CRYING

DO I LOOK LIKE HER? DOES SHE TALK LIKE ME!?

CAUSE HE WOULDNT HURT ME

CRY! CRY! CRY!

IF YOU WANT TO- KNOW ME- START BY TRYNA SHOW ME- THAT YOURE- WORTHY BABY- PROOVE THAT YOU CAN EARN ME!

you put a knife through me 𐌄𐌌Ꝋ𐌕𐌉Ꝋ𐌍𐌀𐌋𐌋𐌙

🅽🅾🆃 🆈🅾🆄🆁 🅿🆁🅾🅱🅻🅴🅼 🅽🅾🆃 🅼🆈 🅿🆁🅾🅱🅻🅴🅼

Every moment I fall to pieces. Every moment I fall a paAaAart 

BUT IF YOU WANT ME WHY CANT WE STILL BE TOGETHER? YOU'VE GOT PROBLEMS BUT I PROMISE THEYLL GET BETTER!

WAIT FOR THE PITFALL, HIT MY FACE ON A BRICK WALL

WHAT ARE YOU UP TOO, HAVE YOU CHANGED YOUR NUMBER! IVE BEEN TRYING TO CALL YOU, SINCE APRIL AND NOW ITS OCTOBER

IM NOT YOUR ᵖᵒˡˡʸ ᵖᵒᶜᵏᵉᵗ IN YOUR LOVERS LOCKET

oh, but i love falling apart. i love falling apart.

cause im some ᴮᴼᴼᴰᴰʸʸ'ˢˢ ᴰᴼᴼᴸᴸᴸᴸʸʸ

ʸᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵘᵘᵘᵘᵘᵘ'ᵛᵉ been such a jerk

can we go back to c͓̽a͓̽l͓̽i͓̽F͓̽O͓̽R͓̽N͓̽I͓̽A͓̽

MAYBE LOVE IS OVERᴿᴬᵀᴱᴰ

IVE BEEN REPLAYING THE SAME SONG FOR SIX Wᴱᴱᴷˢ TRYING TO FIND A PIECE OF YOUR HEARTBEAT. 

And I wonder, where's my, happy ever after

BOYS WILL BE BOYS BUT YOURE NOT LIKE THE Oᵀᴴᴱᴿ ONES

you know, you're better than that. but you can't respond when you react

Cause I know you miss me, and I'm always on your miiiiiiind

Mostly I'm okay with, having a few bad days. lᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒcked in my bedroom with my- hᵉᵉᵉᵉᵉᵃᵃᵃᵃᵃrt out on display

Most nights I hardly know myself. Sometimes I feel like someone else. 

cause i'm stressed depressed can't seem to find no closure

to feel accepted, people are bᵤᵤᵤᵤᵤᵢᵢᵢᵢᵢₗₗₗₗₗₜₜₜₜ for- acting like there's noth-ing wrong.

running away through the rain makes your socks wet

INSIDE THE SLEEVEOFAGREEN WIND BREAKER

if we keep score, bet my money that i'm losing

you always seem closer, in the rearview

need someone that isn't an equation 

I miss being certain, certainly I miss.

all of your apologies are only empty calories

I miss your mom

𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒂 𝒎𝒊𝒅-𝒒𝒖𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒔

If you're gonna love me make sure that you do it right, I'll be under your window in the moonlight. 

the faster I run from the problem, the harder I fall.

teach me how to be ok. I dont wanna dₒₒₒₒₒᵥᵥᵥᵥᵥᵥᵥᵥₙₙₙₙ play my emotions

Why does my face turn rᵉᴱᵉᴱᵉᴱᵉd, when you look at me? 

you're just so confused

tired of tripping on my shoes.

my body's always aching

pressure pulsing, got to stick to routine normalcy

gushing eyes she replies 'you feel like summer'

I-love-your-voice-but-hate-the-way you talk of her consistently 

haven't done much sleeping cause lately i've been dreaming you'd break, my heart.

thirty days since you left me, and it's hard to see your point of view. 

who, am, I? Sometimes I get a little par-a-noid trying to figure it out. 

the problem is you think, youre only viable for love, when someone makes you feel complete

and i'm tired, of the world, perceiving me

An apology anthology 

humanize your equation

symptoms got me thinking that i'm, catching feelings

teach me how to be okay, i don't want to downplay my emotions. 

you win me like a trophy not a consolation prize

i know that sunburn goes away. the broken words i last heard still linger

even the moon cant maintain the same phase

𝒾 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝓌𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝓊𝓅 𝒾𝓃 𝓈𝑒𝒸𝑜𝓃𝒹 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒸𝑒

rose colored lenses eventually crack

and i learn all the words to your daydreams, like i'm trying to sing karaoke

you're not sure, if gods real, but yet you say a prayer. hoping he still cares

[binniesthighs]

call me babydoll | reader x chan

a/n: ahhhhh wow WOW cuties LOL i was not expecting this fic idea to keep me up in my sleep and occupy all my waking thoughts BUT thank you so so  much for you words of support!! hehe well....here we goooo i hope that ya’ll are ready teehee--also tags will be added as they come! You can read part one here

Two 

Pairing: self insert, female reader x bang chan 

Genre: action, mystery and suspense, fluff, smut, angst 

Tags: (of this part) bodyguard au, secret agent au, royal au, moderndayprince!chan, secretagent!reader, secretagent!jeongin, secretagent!jisung, skz side characters, adventure and mystery, action and peril, plot driven, running out of time, slow-ish burn, growing feelings, sexual tension, explicit language, jeongin in this fic is my bb and i will protect him, sexy and smart jeongin tho still hehe 

CWs: mentions of death, people dying/killing, mentions of blood and wounds, mentions of getting drunk, hungover, and vomiting, a bombing. 

Word count: 5.2k 

Parts

ONE | TWO | THREE

The road was long and winding, pitch black, desolate, quiet and foreign. In the backseat of the car, Chan had slumped his head over on Jeongin’s shoulder and bobbed with the motions of the road. His nose would twitch in his sleep, and he would make little grunts of nonsense words. He had worked himself up after the banquet, and actually hadn’t stopped his “love confessions” until you told him to shut up or you would shut him up. 

Your partner’s glasses were illuminated from the screen of his laptop which he tapped quietly away at. You too felt drowsy, but sleep would be for later once you had properly arrived at the safe house, or safe hotel, or safe hole in the ground...whatever it was. 

“You hear anything from Carroll?” You slung your arm over the seat and lowered your voice. 

“Nothing yet.” His eyes flicked around the screen. “It’s almost like it’s too quiet. I’ve already told her that we have the prince and that he’s safe, but..nothing.” 

“You don’t think...they got targeted too?” 

Chan snored lightly on his bodyguard’s shoulder, and he didn’t dare to move an inch. 

“I sure as hell hope not. But...that would explain why things have been so quiet. If this was a larger scale attack...I don’t know what this could mean then.” 

From the darkness of the outside world in the car windows, you passed a forest of pines and oher types of stoic trees making up the mountainside. 

“Well, I think that we should be optimistic for the time being.” 

Jeongin nodded. He looked to be a mess: blood had splattered at his white shirt collar and in specks on his neck. His cracked lenses however, didn’t keep him from his work. He had pulled his tie loosely around his neck, and had also provided his jacket as a pseudo-blanket of sorts for the prince. The prince, had offered his own jacket to you seeing as you only had your dress, but you had been managing just fine. You accepted it, but only because it could soothe his chivalrous ego. He had a hard night already, so you saw it best. 

“Two, where are you taking us?” You called to the mysterious driver. 

Ever since meeting him at the hotel, he had been nearly silent the whole ride. 

The man cleared his throat, “As far away from here as I can. I don’t know of any safe houses so...I’m just trying to remove us.” 

“I can find one for us if Carroll doesn’t get back to me....which she should...” 

Jeongin was not one for speaking of his mother as anything other than his boss. Since he had been assigned to be your partner a few months ago, he had never referred to her as his mother, nor did he ever seem to harbor any emotion for the stern woman. Both of them had been a bit allusive to you, but that was simply how it was in this line of work. You didn’t know things about the people around you, and you didn’t need to ask. You had wondered if he had worried about her, or thought about her when you were on missions. The young man had trained rigorously, and had passed each exam from the academy with flying colors. After considering it for a while, you figured what immense pressure he must've been under: son of the woman in charge, a master at infiltration, espionage, manipulation, cybersecurity, and a million more things; he had to prove himself and more. 

You couldn’t have asked for a better partner, but you almost did wish that you had known more. 

Two fiddled with the radio, settling on a station that played some kind of country-western type music. 

“What’s your specialty Two? How’d you end up a part of this shitshow?” 

The driver laughed, then hummed along with the music for a moment. “This has been my gig for few years, but I’ve never been a part of this unit before. Carroll always saw it best for my services to be used in other places.” 

“You have a specialty?” Jeongin asked while still typing furiously. 

Two scratched the back of his head. “I do a little bit of everything. But...let’s just say that I’m good at making friends. That’s why Carroll likes me.” 

“--You know her personally?” Your partner quipped, but the edge to his voice didn’t sound like judgement, but rather caution. 

“We’ve had a few meetings.” 

“Hm.” 

You kicked off your heals to massage your aching toes. If only they had attacked at a time when you had the proper footwear. 

“You said we could also call you J?” You sprawled over the back seat in an attempt to make yourself more comfortable. Still, the plastic seatbelt buckles poked into your back. 

“Yes. You can call me J.” 

And that was that. No “What’s J stand for”, or “where are you from”, “where’s your home base,” “how did you rank at the academy?” You added questions to the list of things that weren’t allowed as well. 

Jeongin tore off his glasses with an exasperated sigh to rub at his tired eyes. Chan made a happy little noise, presumably because he had found a cozier spot on Jeongin’s shoulder. He had now gotten the chance to sleep off his drunken stupor that may or may not had contributed to his sudden confession, and the reason behind the two pitstops you had taken for him to retch on the side of the road. 

If he was a prince, he might’ve also been one mess of a prince. In all of his grace and confidence, the pleasures that he partook in would often get the best of him at times too. 

You gave up on trying to get some sleep, but rather sat up to watch that paradoxically handsome and misshapen prince. Just like this: sleeping, vulnerable, with some kind of lopsided smirk on his face, he was much less than the regal figure that you had painted him to be in your mind. For maintaining appearances the whole day long, you hadn’t ever really gotten the chance to see him like this before. His façade faded, and you surmised that maybe he really was different from the way that he let on. 

“I’m so fucking tired.” Jeongin yawned. 

“Get some sleep then. I’ll stay up to watch things.” 

“That’s just it. I can’t sleep even if I tried.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Can you pass me some hand sanitizer or something? There’s...blood on my hands.” 

Your partner’s voice cracked slightly. It was then when you realized that this had been the first time that he had fired at real people. 

“I’ve got a water bottle? Is that enough?” 

“Yeah. It’s fine.” 

He splashed the liquids around while wiping his hands away, then flicked the remnants of water away. 

“Something about this doesn’t sit right with me.” 

“How do you mean?” 

Chan’s coat draped over your shoulders, and you pulled it in closer around your arms. The night had been cool, and the AC blasting in the car didn’t make it much better. 

Jeongin licked his lips. “Nothing was supposed to happen tonight. We made sure of it. No one was suspicious, we ran background checks, we checked the whole area...” 

“Hey,” You attempted to turn your tone softer, “We couldn’t have seen it coming. They just rolled up out of nowhere, there was no way that we could’ve stopped it--” 

“--Innocent people died tonight. If they were out for the prince, or maybe they weren’t, why so much collateral damage?” 

“Obviously they don’t care.” 

“Bastards.” Jeongin took the last bits of water to slug. “We’re gonna fucking find out why they did all of this.” 

Two shifted in his seat, “Any word? Hate to mention it, but I’m getting kinda tired. It’s past three already.”  

“Fox?” 

He clicked around, then shook his head. “Still nothing.” 

Chan snorted a bit in his sleep: an action which woke him up. 

“Wha-what? Where are we? Are the there yet? What time is it? Fuck...my head feels like it’s splitting...” 

“We’re finding somewhere, your Highness. We’ll be there soon.” Your partner motioned for you to hand him another water to give to the disorientated prince. 

Chan nodded while he rubbed his temples. “Shit. Please tell me that I just made this all up. That it’s some kind of fucked up nightmare...” 

You threw Chan’s coat back to him. “Unfortunately, no. We’re trying to figure out everything that we can.” 

“Who the hell were those guys?” Water dripped down his neck in a way that you pretended not to notice. “They were wearing crests. I couldn’t tell, but weren’t they red?” 

“Very observant, your Highness. F?” 

The younger man bit his lip, “I’ve already tried finding where the crest is from, but I can’t find anything that resembles it within our database. I was able to see one up close. It looked like a heart or something like that, and a diamond. I’m guessing that it could’ve been maybe a spade? Like the kind that you see on playing cards? Still, since we’ve never seen it before, we can only assume that they must be a new group.” 

Chan nodded, but anyone could tell that the information had flown right over his head. He licked at his wet lips, then sighed. 

“Bee, You okay? Fox? I suppose that I should ask you both.” 

“I’m...fine.” His sudden concern came as a surprise, and your partner looked just as shocked. 

“I-I’m fine too. No holes in me or anything.” Jeongin suppressed a laugh. “But you’re not, your Highness. How much did you have to drink?” 

“Oh...enough. I guess that I lost track at some point. Those kind of things are boring anyway.” 

“Fox? You’ve got that locale?” Two clicked the turn signal. 

“Oh! Yeah, I’ve got one. Sorry, It’s about an hour from here.” 

“Locale?” Chan cocked his head. 

“A safe house. Or something like that. We need to lie low while we wait for instructions.” 

“No one has said anything...? Not even...my father?” 

Jeongin shook his head gravely. “No.” 

The young prince fell silent, and you watched as worry fell over his clouded eyes that were lined with bags. Normally his expression was anything but strained, but in this moment, you saw doubt sweep over him like the darkness on the road ahead. You leaned the farthest you could from your seat to grab at his hand behind you. 

“You’re safe with us. Nothing is going to happen to you.” 

His hand was warm, maybe a little clammy, but it was soft, like that of a prince, naturally. Still, it was strong and veined. Chan’s thumb rubbed soft little circles into your own skin, muttering, “Thank you.” For once, his eyes which would normally devour you like some kind of rare dish held you earnestly. I trust you, they said. 

“Two. Let’s switch.” Jeongin slammed his laptop closed. “I’ve got it from here.” 

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

The safe house was quiet. As most of them where. It was even a bit stereotypical: a little cottage in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by woods on nearly all sides. It had a little overgrown garden, and a shed that looked like it held either all kinds of gardening equipment, or the real thing that sheds were meant for in your business: ammo. It had a white painted porch with cracking paint, as well as porch swing with rusting chains. In the early morning the windows were are black, but still faintly reflected the massive array of sparking stars above your heads. The only thing less antique about the home was the touch keypad on the front door. It beeped with a little tune, then flashed the insignia of the agency: a ticking clock. 

“Two, can you find a generator or something? Get the electricity up and going?” 

“Can do,” He said, then disappeared. 

Two was mostly a quiet man, a feature that gave you both reasons to trust him and to be suspicious. Besides him being a bit smaller in stature with thin legs and characteristically round cheeks, there was something different about him that you couldn’t place; something unexpected. You wished once again that questions weren’t on the list of things that weren’t allowed. 

“There should be clothes around here somewhere.” Jeongin padded his way through the dark rooms. “You shower first your Highness.” 

Chan tripped over his feet as he spread out his arms to find his way. You giggled lightly at the action. A man really was stripped down of any and all sense of composure when his life had been threatened and he had to have his bodyguards pat his back while he had gotten sick after one too many royal drinks. 

The lights flashed on, flickering at first with the sound of the lightbulbs waking up after a long sleep. The interior design of the place was exactly as you had expected: it was a family home with a fireplace and several chairs and couches covered in dust. Bookshelves were full with the strangest assortment of reading material and board games there held a thin layer of grey dust too. The kitchen was small and cozy: it had all the necessities. A stained glass chandelier hung over the wooden table for eight, and was decorated with glass hummingbirds and pink flowers. In odd corners of the house, children’s toys had been sitting untouched. A family must’ve been living there, and you wondered what must’ve become of them. 

Two returned with spiderwebs caught on his dress coat. “Water should be hot in about thirty minutes or so I think.” 

Your partner crossed the room, raking a hand through his snowy white hair. “I’m gonna try and make the calls again. See if I get anything. If not, we’ll have to...begin Operation Cheshire.” 

It was the phrase that you had hoped neither you nor your partner would have to say. 

Chan slumped down in one of the upholstered chairs, throwing dust into the air as he did. Compared to the rest of the room, him and his designer clothes seemed comically out of place. “Wha-what’s that?” 

Two pinched between his eyes, and your chest shook with an unsure inhale. 

“It means that we assume the worst. HQ got taken over and we’re all at risk. Information about us could be accessible to anyone. Essentially, we go into sleeper mode until we can reconvene with other agents...if there are any more. We dissapear. Next, we work on getting you back home, no matter what it takes.” 

“HQ?” What are you talking about?” Chan toyed with his diamond set cufflinks. “HQ? Like whoever manages the bodyguards??” 

“Your Highness...” You and your partner exchanged knowing glances. “We’re more than bodyguards.” 

“What?!” 

“We’re operatives. Agents. We work for an intelligence agency that specializes in a bunch of different things...protecting royalty if needed.” 

“What the fuck?! Why didn’t anyone tell me? Chan slapped his leg. “Fuck! No one tells me anything!!! I get that I’m a fucking prince but I’m not fucking useless!” 

The memory of the confidential file reemerged in your memory: the promise that you had made to His Majesty The King after he had requested a “special hire” to watch over his son. The file itself had contained a several thousand words or so that you hadn’t bothered to read, but rather skimmed till you got to the signature part. Carroll had simply nodded before you put your pen to the paper. 

“It was for your saf--” 

“--My father did this, didn’t he? Didn’t he? Some kind of sick way to keep tabs on me? See what I’m doing?? God! The man never trusts me. If the thinks that I’m that much of a disappointment...this is just--” 

“Your Highness, it’s been a long day, you’ve been through a lot, just take a shower and get some rest. Alright? We’ll talk more about this in the morning.” Two stepped forward with his hands folded in front of him. His interjection was unlike his previously quiet presence. 

The prince sighed, tapping his tragically expensive shoe on the hardwood. 

“Fine. We’ll talk about it in the morning.” 

Chan’s eyes grew dark with an authoritative air that you had seen before. His façade had slipped over him like a cloak. He rose, buttoning his jacket, then tweaking his sliver brooches decorating his neck. 

“Fox. Bee. Two. Thank you. Good evening.” 

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

Chan knew that it was you at the door when you would knock two times, then pause, and knock twice more. In your hands, you held a cup of warm milk. For a prince, even he couldn’t reject the beverage to help him fall asleep at night. You had seen him order it at hotels on more than one occasion. Jeongin had found a nearby store to get food for the morning. The two of you had suddenly found yourselves as now both his bodyguards and his servants. While you waited, you hoped to God that Carroll would compensate you for the extra work. 

The door creaked open, revealing your prince modestly dressed in plaid flannel, hair dripping slightly in wet strands. You had never seen him as simple as this before: no princely persona or cold exterior to upkeep. He looked...normal. 

“What is it Bee?” 

“I thought you might like some...well, this.” You provided him with the cup. “I know that it’s nearly morning, but you should still try to sleep in. We’ll take care of things. 

He took the ceramic mug from your hands, fingers barely brushing against yours for mere moments. 

“Thank you.” He hushed with a thankful smile. “Would you like to come in? We could...just kind of...sit for a minute.” 

Behind him, sun peaked at the horizon, a splitting of red piercing the navy deep of the night. The colors muddled, blurred, a bit like the color of blood fading into the deep fabric of one’s formal wear. It was desolate, but still beautiful. 

“To be honest,” His eyes fell, “I don’t want to be alone right now.” 

You had saved the biggest room for him. It smelled of mothballs and other old things like sheets that had rested in a dark room for much too long. Still, there was a kind of familiarity to it all and the way that the matted rugs and brass vintage lamps lit the room with a soft yellow light. The full sized bed creaked once you had sat down. In his golden halo, Chan’s brown strands appeared to be softer, and not as prim and staged. 

“I’m sorry for snapping earlier. I realized that there are things that are out of my control. You know more than I do, and I accept that. I trust you...a-and Fox.” 

You rubbed your hands into the jeans you had found in the cupboard. They had dirt and grass stains from work in the garden you presumed. 

“It’s okay. I understand that you would be scared. It’s okay to be. I...get scared sometimes too. I know that it might look like it, but I fear...for my life too. So does Jeong--Fox.” 

Chan’s voice cracked. “Is someone out to kill me?” 

You sighed, sensing his hesitation. “I don’t know. But we will know soon.” 

The prince stared down at the white bubbles in his milk, then swirled around the liquid to watch the way that that it moved. 

“I don’t think I’d like to die. Would be pretty unfortunate, don’t you think? I feel like I’ve got so many other things to do. A kingdom to manage, people to govern, much more bottles of Scotch to drink, parties to attend...” 

His eyes met yours, and you could see the very fragility of the life that he spoke of right in them. He was right in that dumb speech of his. He really was just a person. 

“...I like to think that I’ll get married someday to someone that I love. I actually would really like to do that.” He chuckled. “Lame, right? Someone like me who always bounces around. Wouldn’t take me for one?” 

“Mm. No. I think that from what I’ve observed of you, and I’m trained to observe, I think that bouncing around...means you’re looking for the right thing. And, I guess that it’s fun too.” 

Chan chuckled, “You’re good at observing.” 

You paused, remembering Lee Minho from earlier. 

“Were you looking when you were talking to that man at the banquet? He was very handsome.” 

The prince placed the cup down. “He was. I don’t know. He just seemed kind of interesting. The kind of mystery that only a stranger has. I would’ve liked to have talked to him more now that I think about it. Maybe it would’ve been worth my time.” Chan twisted his back to crack it. “I don’t know if you saw but he had some really nice fucking thighs.” 

“Ahhh. Nice thighs. Didn’t know that you cared for that.” 

The two of you laughed together a bit like old friends. It felt nice. 

“...Bee. I should also probably apologize for how I acted back before we got in the car. I was...drunk, scared. I said some things--” 

“--That you were in love with me?” 

“Yeah...that. I realized that...I’ve been...unfair to you. You don’t deserve the ridicule. You’ve only ever been helpful to me and--” 

“--Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.” You shrugged. You had met hundreds of guys like him before, at least you thought. 

Chan sighed as if he was gathering himself. “Bee. I did mean what I said.” 

“What? Ch-your Highness, you don’t mean that.” 

He laughed, “It’s alright. You can call me Chan. And...yes. I did. You’ve got a kind of mystery to you too. Frankly, I can’t stop thinking about it.” 

“This...this is inappropriate.” You shifted, the rising off the bed. Your cheeks warmed, but you couldn’t know why. Maybe he was just too damn charming. But, he was like that with everyone. 

He rose too, hastily following you on your way to the door. “Bee, wait.” 

“Chan, you can’t do this. It makes things...complicated.” 

He advanced, slowly, closing the space between you. “It’s only complicated if you feel the same.” 

“I-I don’t.” 

The prince’s hand carefully rose to cup your face, a gesture so gentle that you shied from the feeling. Even this close still he smelled of white roses. 

“Have you ever heard of conflict of interest?” Your breath hitched. 

Chan grinned, “There you go making this complicated again.” 

A wandering hand of yours acting on its own reached to tug hold of his shirt. 

The prince leaned in closer, nearly close enough to breech the gap between his plush lips and yours. 

“What if I don’t mind making things...” He whispered the word, grazing his mouth over yours, “...complicated?” 

“Ch--” 

He pressed his weight fully into you, a smashing of lips met with incessant heat and your back shoved into the door. His tongue easily twisted around yours, and his soft gasps filled up your mouth. It had taken you a couple seconds to realize what had happened, and to decide what to do with yourself. His mouth was blazing, it was as if he was weaving a spell, or perhaps you had made it up for yourself. He kissed you with vitality; like he had never tasted anything like you before and was starving for you. You realized, perhaps you had wondered what it would’ve felt like. One hand squeezed tighter to his shirt, and you kissed back, meeting his heat. 

Jeongin’s voice called down the hall, “Bee? Bee, are you there?” The sound of your bedroom door shut. 

You pushed Chan off you with flat hands on his chest and an amazed smile on his face. 

“This...this doesn’t mean anything.” You gasped, reaching for the knob after a moments pause. 

Chan snickered, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

“Goodnight your Highness.” 

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

For a man so young Jeongin liked his coffee black, and drank it like an old man too with his nose buried in a newspaper while it fogged up his glasses--or what was left of them. 

“I finally got correspondence from Carroll this morning. She said that HQ experienced some kind of blackout and all the systems went offline. It wasn’t safe for her to contact us on a regular line. They got everything back up and running and everything seems fine, or so they think.” 

Your partner had already made himself comfortable in a pair of sweatpants and a cotton tee with slippers. You never would’ve guessed that he was a trained assassin on the side. 

Two returned huffing in the door from his morning run. He was one of those people. 

“Any word?” He rubbed his face off with a dishtowel. 

“Disgusting.” You sneered at the crude action. 

“Well, we’ve got thousands of miles between us and the kingdom and what seems like a hell of a lot of guys on our tail, but, after I sent Carroll the info about the red crest, she wants us to do some digging. 

“With the prince in tow?” You lowered your voice lest the sleeping royal heard you. “I don’t think so.” 

“It sounds like she’s convinced that the person behind all of this could be someone who attended the charity ball. And, I don’t really disagree. They must be good at keeping secrets if they evaded us.” 

“Hm. You’re right. A high profile event like that, even though its for a good cause it’s always a competition with those snobs. I just don’t know who could order something so cruel...all those people in the same place...” 

“Since it’s a new group, they must still be underground. So, to see who lives underground, you’ve got to go there yourself to find out. Or, in our case, find someone who knows the rabbit hole.” 

Two grabbed a chair, ruffling his deep brown soaked hair. “What does that mean?” 

Jeongin flipped his laptop around. “This is the man that we need to go see. Codename White Rabbit. Or as he calls himself--” 

“--Bun.” You cut in. “Yeah, I know him.” 

Both of the men chimed, “You do?” 

“Yeah, he’s undercover ops for the agency. He’s sort of a jack of all trades. He owns some kind of front out in Egypt. It’s called The Tea Party. Bar up front, but in the back he provides all kinds of information--for both sides. His cut is that for any information he gives to the agency he gets cash compensation. If anyone would know about anything underground, it would be him. As I’m sure Carroll told you, he’s a stickler for meeting in person. He’s one of us. I think.” 

“You think?” 

“He also does...other deviant things. I heard that these days he’s had a couple dealings in some...substances. Black market stuff. Carroll also provides safety for his business in return for his information.” 

“That...sounds illegal. Immoral even.” Jeongin’s eyes widened upon hearing the news about his mother. 

“You’ve got to pay to play you know.” 

“So Egypt then?” Two wiped off the back of his neck with the dishtowel, stretching out one of his toned arms. “I’ve always wanted to go there.” 

“Oh--one more thing.” Jeongin took a rather long sip from his cup. “The King’s counsel reached out to me too this morning. They asked me if the Prince was safe and where we were. I have them loose details of both. They seemed somewhat relieved.” 

Chan sauntered down the steps with a massive yawn, stretching up his arms and shirt to reveal an inkling of his abs. You also pretended not to notice it. 

“Gooood morning everyone. Fox. Two.” He dished out a wink. “Bee.” 

“Morning your Highness.” Jeongin nodded, and crossed his legs. “Feeling well?” 

“Ahhh much better.” He poured himself a cup of coffee in the kitchen, staring out the little window over the sink, then took an indulgent sip. “It’s peaceful here. I kind of like that.” 

“Your Highness, we’ve received word--” 

Chan rose his hand to shush your partner, then languidly took another sip. “I’m still enjoying my drink F.” 

A light buzzing resonated somewhere in the house, a bit like the sound of a dryer, and the home started vibrating. Your water glass on the table rippled. 

“Two, did you notice if there was anything strange about the house?” 

The buzzing grew nearer. 

Two looked puzzled, “No, why?” 

The vibrating grew more violent, and your glass shuddered off the wooden table, shattering on the ground upon impact. 

Chan squinted out the window, “Is that a--” 

“CHAN GET DOWN!” You shrieked. 

Within milliseconds the whistling of a bomb screeched through the air, then crashed into the rickety ceiling, splintering wood everywhere and demolishing the furniture. 

You had seconds to act while the matte black bomb hissed with a steam releasing from some seam and ticked. You sprinted to grab Chan’s arm as hard as you possibly good, all in a blur, pummeling your bodies against one of the shattered windows, and hurling yourself out to the morning dew. You had no time to see if Jeongin or Two had made their exit, but looked out, towing the prince so hard you must’ve done some damage to his shoulder. You stumbled to your feet, tripping, and grunting until the bomb diffused, and exploded the cottage altogether. You covered Chan’s head and most of his body with your own as a shield and the shards of wood, metal, and brick came flying. 

“Ar-are you okay?” You patted the prince down in his shock, who stared blankly with empty eyes. 

The prince’s flannel had been torn to shreds with glass, and blood oozed onto the fabric on his arms. 

“Yeah...yeah...I’m...fine.” 

“BEE! Y/N!” Jeongin screamed over the flames to find you. 

“OVER HERE!” You bellowed back, and your partner came running with Two behind him with terrible cuts on his face. 

“They knew. They FUCKING knew.” He panted after reaching you. 

“We have to get out of here.” Two gasped, and blood ran down his face, nearly into his eye. “If they know where we are now, they’ll come to check to see if the damage is done. We have to move.”  

The sky filled with an angry smoke, and the once peaceful forest filled with the colors of orange and red. 

“The car?” 

“Broken windows from the blast but I should be able to get it going. There’s spare parts in the shed. And ammo. A fuck ton of it.” 

“We’ll need it.” 

You pulled the prince to his feet as he blinked wildly at you and your team. 

“Fuck.” Was all the could manage. 

In your complete surprise, Chan’s bloodied and cracked hands pulled your face into his, kissing you with lips that tasted of the salt of blood. 

“I fucking love you Bee. I’ve decided.” 

Jeongin’s jaw dropped in the corner of your eye, so you promptly slapped the prince upside the face. 

“You’re in shock. We need to get out of here.” 

A wrinkled smile danced on the royal’s face, and you might’ve thought that it was a bit charming. 

“Admit it. You love me too Bee.” 

~🌹~ 

Bunch of (Ro)ses! 

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @eunaeiekim @julesinthesoop

[gojoscloset]

Damaged goods

Suna Rintarou x Fem!Reader Pt. 1

Suna confesses to reader who still dwells on their trauma

WARNINGS:

Brief mentions of Sexual trauma

Bad words

Not edited

Mayhaps really out of character

Self indulgent

Angst

Word count: 3k+

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

“Her?!”

“Yeah, her.” Suna confirmed, sharp eyes watching your expressions change as you interacted with your friends quite a few lunch tables away.

“Ha! Yeah, good luck Rin. I heard She’s prude as fuck” his friend patted Suna’s shoulder in a rough yet playful way. “I‘ve been school mates with her since intermediate, no good. She’s never dated anyone, rejects any confessions thrown her way, and immediately rejects people’s advances. You’re booking a room at the Heartbreak hotel if you’d ask me.”

“I didn’t ask, but thanks for looking out.” He didn’t expect his friend to react so negatively, immediately he changed the topic, no longer wanting to speak of you if it wasn't praise. Either way,Suna couldn't care less about who you rejected and why they got rejected. At the end of the day, they weren't him, and they didn’t know you.

___

You unknowingly planted a ‘parasite’ in Suna’s mind, as he likes to call it. He recalls the exact moment in which you were no longer blurred in the background, but right in his face the whole time; a small act of kindness that rotted his brain away with how much he thought about it.

He started noticing how frequent you two run into each other after the first ‘encounter’, now he quietly and stealthily looks your way in hopes of possibly catching you doing another kind act. Much to Suna’s surprise, he had the privilege of witnessing your integrity on multiple occasions which only made him want to be closer to you.

Of course he never initiated anything, nor did he make the effort to speak to you. He felt there really was no proper way to approach you without it being awkward in his eyes. What was he supposed to say? How was he supposed to initiate conversation?

“Hey, I have seen you do kind things for others and now I want to get to know you?”

“Hello, I saw you pay for someone’s items one time and now i can’t stop thinking about you, i’m Suna Rintaro”

Thoughts that kept him up sometimes. Thoughts that took up the free space in his mind until they started to affect his little day to day routines. It scared him to see himself willingly want to do things for you that were completely out of character. You. A person he only got to see a glimpse of, maybe that's what kept his infatuation burning. To think that the light that radiated from you was just what seeped through the cracks, a sample of who you really were, he only got a little taste and he was feening for more.

Suna was a quiet man, but he could only keep his head in the clouds for so long before someone noticed.

“So, what’s been on your mind?” Kita pulled him to the side after practice one day and that’s when he spilled everything to Kita. Kita himself was surprised yet honored to see this vulnerable side of Suna.

With a little encouragement from his teammate, he decided to tell you how he felt. He of course asked Kita and Aran for assistance,as they were the most level-headed members of the team and his friend group. They suggested the letter method opposed to the DM method Suna insisted would ‘be a lot easier’ to do. But they weren’t going to let him be a coward. “Things such as romance shouldn’t be done half-assed.” Kita damn near scolded him and reluctantly Suna obliged.

Somehow the twins caught wind of the plan, and decided they would be there while he confessed, in hiding of course. And after dragging Kita and Aran along, despite their protests and mentions of violating Suna’s privacy, the gang was somehow all there.

——

He practiced this very moment countless times in his head even preparing for rejection.

“Suna-San..'' you looked up from the envelope he handed you, you stared directly into his eyes, various forms of negative emotions displayed on your own face causing his anxiety to shoot through the roof, but the smile you gave him afterwards alleviated it just a tad.

‘Heartbreak Hotel…’ His friend's words repeated in his mind and Suna wondered if maybe he made a mistake, even if he barely said anything, did his actions come off too strong?

“...I am flattered, I really am…” You chuckled a bit, hiding the lower half of your face with the letter, slightly embarrassed but really flattered.

Oh how He wished you hadn’t done that. He wanted to see how you beamed because of him, even if the rejection would follow afterwards, he wished that smile reached him.

“But please don’t waste your time on me.” You laughed, examining the envelope, not looking at him while your fingers traced the large red heart sticker that sealed the confession.

He took the hit like a man, understanding that not everyone was going to like him in that way and rejection in life was inevitable, but he wasn’t going to let this go so easily, not when it came to you. Not when you called it a waste of time.

You were grateful that Suna didn’t do this in front of everyone, like all the others, Blissfully unaware that the devils were in the details and said devils were actually listening in and cheering for Suna silently on the other side of the lockers.

There were a million things Suna wanted to say but he couldn’t choose what to say in time before things went awkwardly silent. You couldn’t look at him for long before you shyly turned away, once again covering your face as you laughed.

“Thank you though.. but yeah… I’ll see you tomorrow in class?” You took a step to the side to walk past him, but before you managed to get away he took a step in front of you, stopping you in your tracks.

He gave you a serious look once he finally grasped onto something to say , there wasn’t any hidden anger in his gaze, much to your relief.

“Pursuing you isn't a waste of my time.” He said plainly, his cool demeanor never wavered but internally his heart was doing flips. You were not expecting this kind of reaction honestly. Everyone else you had rejected always took it like a bitch, utterly offended and of course left you hurt with the slew of insults they used to mask their pain and to get back at you on their way out.

But not Suna, he had patience and was understanding. It hurt you that you had to reject him, but you couldn’t do that to him, not when you were still… fucked.

“That’s ‘cause you don’t even know me.” Your laugh was a pained one, and your fight or flight senses kicked in, he was stretching the moment as much as possible and it made you nervous.

“I know enough to know I want more.” he replied.

“And that’s a mistake on your end.” You snapped but you didn’t mean to. Your hands began to shake and your voice was beginning to crack under the pressure. You knew he meant no harm in prying, but you wished he would have reacted the way all the others have since It would have been easier to escape the situation.

His heart was heavy, but obviously not as heavy as yours.

“Look, Suna” you began, exhaling deeply. Your eyes finally met his. “I’m what they call damaged goods, okay? I won’t be able to give you what you want. Relationships require things that are difficult for me to give, and I think it’s best you trash the idea.” Your voice was small but the meaning behind your words was not.

“What is it that's required?” His hand rubbed the back of his neck, the nerves finally hitting him breaking his chill character. “Y-you never know..M..maybe you don’t have to give it to me...”

Your brows were knit together, confused at how oblivious he was. Did he really not get it? Or was this all an elaborate prank?

You opened up your mouth to speak but before you could mutter anything out, Kita came from around the corner, immediately you shoved the letter into your back pocket. Little did you know the letter was their doing. Well, Mainly Aran and Kita.

“Oh, there you are Rin. I hope I’m not intruding in anything, but we can’t start practice without you.”

Kita gave you a nod and a small smile, you returned the nod, and attempted with the smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes as it normally would.

Suna had a confused look on his face, but he played along. “Right…. “ He muttered, turning to look at you. You stared back at him but you were the first one to break eye contact

“Do your best at practice..I’ll see you around.” You whispered and quickly saw yourself out.

——

Atsumu, Osamu, and Aran stepped from the other side once Kita gave them the cue.

They rushed to Suna’s side, immediately bombarding him with praise and encouragement, and Suna hated it. He didn’t mean to feel this way, but Suna knew the praise came from a place of pity, it was etched on their sad smiles. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, even if he knew they were just trying to help.

Practice went on as it normally would, Suna was quieter though, as expected. He let his mind wander, the scene replaying in his head, trying to ping the exact moment where he messed up.

Kita pulled him to the side once again after practice.

“You are no coward.” Kita gave him a reassuring smile, Suna couldn’t return it though.

“It feels like I am.” He took a seat on the steps outside, Kita following suit.

“It’s understandable why you feel that way, romance is nothing easy. But you did what you could out there, you should be proud of yourself.” Kita threw in another one of his smiles but Suna wasn’t even looking his way, his mind everywhere but here.

Kita continued, knowing Suna was probably not going to say much to him. “ But the reason I pulled you aside today was to explain why I intervened. It seems that what she said went way over your head and I couldn’t continue to listen to you unknowingly pry.”

With those words Suna was thrown back to planet earth. He snapped his head in Kita’a direction, visible uncertainty in his eyes.

“It was when l/n talked about being ‘damaged goods’ and about what she couldn’t give you in a relationship.” Kita looked at Suna, searching his eyes to see in case the lightbulb finally flicked on. But it didn’t so he continued.

“I’m in a place I don’t belong, but Rin, I’m pretty sure she was referring to trauma...whether it be sexual or not, I suggest you refrain from prying.”

The cogs in Suna’s mind finally began to spin. He was able to put the pieces together and see the entire image for what it was. It made him sad to think that you referred to yourself as ‘damaged goods’ because of your past. He wanted to doubt the possibility, but the pieces to the puzzle fit all too well for it to be anything else.

Not only that- Kita, being as intuitive as he was, was usually never wrong about these kinds of things, nor would he lie to Suna. Especially about something like that.

He then remembered the ‘warning’ his friend gave him that one day. A wave of disappointment rushed through him knowing that his ‘friend’ made assumptions about you whilst being completely oblivious to the truth.

All of these things ran through his mind at a million miles per second. “Are you okay?” Kita snapped him out of his trance, he didn’t realize he hadn’t moved or said anything since he put it all together.

“Yeah.” He stood up and walked down the remainder of the concrete steps, Kita following his lead. “I’m heading home. Uhh...thanks for looking out, even if things didn’t go as planned” Suna rubbed the back of his neck and turned to watch Kita walk down the remainder of the steps

“And thank you for confiding in me, even though somehow the twins caught wind of it all.” They both chuckled at the last part.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, and chin up. You did your best” Kita waved him goodbye and headed home. Suna gave him a wave and headed home himself. Even though he got his feelings for you off his chest, he still felt like he couldn’t breathe. Like somehow the weight on his shoulders had increased.

—-

Reading the letter fucked you up. Of course it made your heart skip a beat, but it also made you hate yourself for familiar reasons.

Paragraph after paragraph of nothing but praise. You hated how you couldn’t see any of the things he said in yourself.

You fucking hated how being touched by someone without consent changed your entire life. You hated how much influence your past had on your future.

Moments like these and confessions like this made you question if you would ever live the life you wanted.

The concepts of marriage, children, sex, and almost all forms of physical intimacy made you cringe and shiver in disgust.

Things you once desired became things you hated, all because someone else fucked them up for you.

—

“Are you okay?...” your best friend, Hanako, asked as she looked up from the envelope you opened cautiously so as to not mess up the sticker.

You nodded, no longer having the energy to speak after all the crying. You didn’t even look at her while she asked, you just sat on your bed, staring at the wall mindlessly playing with the fur of one of your blankets.

“Your feelings are valid, I hope you know.” She rubbed soothing circles on your back and again you nodded, wiping your eyes again.

“It just sucks ya know? Because I want this so bad, but who the fuck is going to want to wait around for me? Imagine getting in a relationship with someone you can’t be intimate with because they’re scared. Like great, what a waste of their time.” You shook your head and went back to playing with the fur.

“None of those things are true, and the real world is wayyyy different. There are people out there who are patient and understanding and there is more to love than what you know. Trust me, take it from someone who’s graduated and has a little taste of real life .” She placed a hand on your shoulder and shook it playfully, trying to get you out of your funk.

“It doesn’t feel that way.” You muttered under your breath

“You feel this way only because you haven’t fully healed. And I don’t blame you y/n… the things you underwent require a lot of healing so please take as much time as you need and go easy on yourself.....” she grabbed your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

There wasn’t much left you had to say, but Hanako stayed by your side a while longer, watching a movie she knew was your fave to try and ease the pain. She had been here with you many times before and she would do it again and again because she loved you and wanted you to love yourself.

Hanako left long after the sun had set, she would’ve spent the night but she knew you had class the following morning.

But you couldn’t go to sleep, instead you reread the letter. Reading the paragraphs that made you feel like you were actually worth someone’s time over and over again.

‘There hasn’t been a day since that you don’t cross my mind. What started off as curiosity became something more. Your kind heart connected with that smile, that laugh, that face, It became too much for me to bear, I couldn’t go another day without telling you.’

Tears fell onto the paper, and you were quick to use your shirt to dab away the tears, not wanting to mess up the effort he put into it. After rereading the letter for what seemed to be the thousandth time, you decided it was time for bed.

After doing your routine you headed for bed, but as soon as your head hit the pillows your phone buzzed multiple times.

‘@2501Suna Sent you a message request’

‘Hey I know it’s late but’

‘It didn’t register to me what u meant by damaged goods until way after’

‘I’m sorry I’m kind of a dummy’

‘I didn’t mean to pry’

‘or make u uncomfortable’

‘And forgive me if I’m speaking in a place I’m not welcome’

‘But if what I think happened, happened’

‘I still stand by what I said in the letter’

‘And u are still deserving of love’

‘Have a Goodnight and see u tomorrow (^:’

He seemed to press enter with every Sentence causing your phone to buzz continuously.

You read the messages as they came in real time and just when you thought you’d stopped crying, fresh tears seeped out again.

You didn’t have much to say so all you did was double tap the messages, little hearts appearing at the bottom of each one, your way of showing your appreciation without having to say anything.

It was crazy to think that you had plagued someone's mind like Suna claimed you did. Even in the late night he still thought of you and considered your feelings, and even if you did reject him, Suna didn’t look for ways to kill the ‘parasite’ in his brain. If anything it fed it more.

You couldn’t help but smile at the messages, even if the horrendous self doubt clouded your mind, it was his efforts and his own kind heart that parted the clouds for you, you basked in the feeling, even if it was just for the moment.

A/N:

Trauma does not define you

Trauma does not get to influence your choices

Love is real

& Love is out there for you

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

[delldarling]

forest vows | aspen iii

non-binary forest being x gender/body neutral reader 5100 words lemon | making out, multiple tongues, fingers, oral, size difference, sex pollen (but consent is Very Much still included) chapter one? or chapter two?

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Winter makes one last desperate grab for spring, sinking lightning strikes like talons into rain heavy clouds. The days are still cold and gray, still better suited to thick jackets and staying off the roads, but green finally appears on bare tree limbs, sprouting and unfurling into bright shoots before you can blink. All you can think about is visiting Aspen now that the snow has stopped falling. The heavy scent of them has been lingering in the air, the faint sweetness of nectar and the crispness of greenery. You know from experience that it isn't the wisest decision though, running off into the heavily soaked trees all on your lonesome. Then again, you’re not sure you can make any claims to being wise when you’ve been dating a creature of the forest, brought into being by human feelings of love and affection. And lust.

You can’t forget about the lust.

The bloom that Aspen had dropped for you that first night fed on lust, just the same as them. Small and dainty, with a single stem, you’d brought it home and put it in water, charmed by the gesture. You hadn’t thought much of it for a few days. Hadn’t done more than give it a few glances, thoughts drifting to Aspen’s rumbling voice and slick tongues. It looked normal enough, but after a few days you’d noticed that it was still fresh, and after a week that it had grown.

Nervous, and wondering if you were going to have to tend to some kind of child-like Ent creature, you’d brought it back to Aspen a day later, but the sight of the thriving blossom had only made them laugh.

“This was meant to be a gift only. A reminder.” Aspen had bent, their branches creaking, threads of lichen getting caught on your shoulder as they prodded the petals. The bloom hadn’t moved, hadn’t grown or opened beady little eyes, but then Aspen had tilted their head to rest upon yours. A leaf sprouted along the stem when Aspen touched you, quickly followed by another bud. The motion had left you both enraptured, wide eyed and silent until it stopped growing. “As long as you desire me," Aspen had murmured, lowering their voice as their wooden mouth brushed your ear, "I believe it will remain fresh. Indeed, it may well grow larger.”

“Will it be sentient?”

“I know not,” they’d confessed, truthful. You hadn’t missed the teasing glint in the depths of their dark eyes though. “But I doubt it. Many of my blooms have dropped here through the years, but none have lingered for long.” Aspen had plucked the bloom out of your fingers and then had tucked it behind your ear. It had sprouted more leaves, had grown a small offshoot, but a day after you’d gone back home, it had… If not exactly withered, had returned to its original state. And then every time you’d been in the same room as the bloom, every time you’d even felt a hint of arousal, the flower had perked back up, had flourished like it had roots and the perfect soil. Until midwinter.

Aspen, for all intents and purposes, hibernated during the coldest months of the year. There had been little reason to try and stay awake when humans stopped coming to Makeout Point before you, but even with your presence and touch bolstering them, Aspen had begun to grow drowsy. Three days before midwinter, they’d barely been able to speak past cracking yawns, the moss and lichen on their shoulders and chest grown dry and brittle. The lack of them, of being able to look forward to seeing them, had put a damper on your spirits. And then the bloom going into stasis three days later had been a bit worse.

Winter felt like it lasted an age, but two days ago the little white flower had perked up again. You’d been walking past the small vase, lonely and lost in thought when the moving petals had caught your eye, reaching slowly towards the weak sunlight shining through the fogged windows. You’d assumed it had only been disturbed by a breeze until you’d reached for it, extending two fingers. The blossom had shot up, stem growing long until it bumped into your skin, Aspen’s heady scent filling up the room until you’d breathed deep and, overwhelmed, sneezed. You’d felt a bit silly asking the little plant if Aspen was awake, and even sillier when it hadn’t reacted in the slightest. There was little cause for doubting though, not after the flower had followed Aspen into its own rest, all you need to do now is wait.

But waiting is proving much harder than you want it to be. You miss Aspen, have been missing them and their rumbling laugh. You miss the way they can’t seem to stop stroking your cheek or your shoulder, eager to touch you, to have your attention. You’ve thought about them frequently through the winter, but that nectary taste is so heavy on the back of your tongue now, no matter what you drink, no matter how deeply you breathe in that it feels… Off. I should go, you tell yourself a few times a day, but as soon as you make it to your car, you find a handful of excuses to stop. To stay. The winter might have been long, but another week won’t hurt anything, will it?

Twice you drive halfway there, but the state of the roads always sends you back. Rain has been pouring from the sky, leaving the underbrush of all forested areas slogged with mud, and Makeout Point will be the worst of all. The normally well traveled paths are always dotted with leaf litter, and this time of year they’re likely to have puddles, floating with decaying leaves, unassumingly deep. All it would take is one misplaced step, your feet gliding through the slick mud, for chaos to reign. If Aspen is awake, they would most definitely attempt to help, but you can’t imagine a giant tree person carrying you back to your car without a few lingering consequences.

The rumors about Big Foot and wandering bears died down towards the end of November, but at best that would start them up again. At worst—well, you don’t really want to imagine the worst. Most of those thoughts have to do with mob mentality, and you can’t let yourself imagine that fallout without feeling sick.

You swallow, finding yourself back on the road to Makeout Point, heart beating a bit too fast. You don’t fight the urge to go this time. The flower had been much larger today, dotted with new buds and leaves, and all it had taken was a single inhale of the little thing to make you ache.

Even if all you do is spend a short time by Aspen’s side, you have to see them. Just to make sure they’re awake. Just to make sure they’re okay.

You’re clutching at the curved handle of your umbrella, rain splattering against the arch of water-proof material, as well as the sleeves of your zip-up hoodie, when you realize you may not have thought things through. Again. You look down at your feet, frowning at the amount of mud already caking your boots, and glance back up at the winding path disappearing through the trees. It would be smartest to head back, rather than risk a dangerous slip down a too-soft hill. Smarter to keep the visit short, rather than risk getting soaked through.

You think of the soft fan of Aspen’s fern-like eyelashes when they blink, and the way they shiver every time you press a kiss to the whorls on their cheek. They always turn to kiss you in the best way they know how, afterwards. A gentle tilt of their head, the slow, slick curl of one of their tongues around yours. You can taste the faint sweetness of them on your lips, can feel the pressure of their fingers on your back. You’ve already come this far out to see them. You can take a few minutes to give them a kiss, despite the chill and splatter of rain, can’t you?

The trail becomes worse as you go on, the rain having battered down the dirt in places where the branches overhead are thin. You have to hug the trunk of a twisted oak as you slip by one of the deeper puddles, fingers scrabbling at the craggy bark when a root proves too slippery. You don’t fall, but it’s a near thing, and your heart doesn’t thank you for the scare. Moving slower becomes necessary the longer you walk, searching out patches of thick moss to dry and wipe your boots on. Even on drier patches of dirt you’re still sliding with mud and leaves sticking to your boots. When you finally crest the small hill that leads to Makeout Point, you assume your impatience will wane, that this arduous ache will ease now that you know Aspen is close. Instead, it grows tenfold.

It’s cold outside, the rain is freezing, but as soon as you see the riot of fauna and moss crawling down the path, you feel terribly hot. It’s like you’ve been running a marathon in your winter clothes, like the umbrella is keeping the relief of the cold rain from your face.

You toss it aside, striding up the path, barely paying attention to the unsteadiness of your steps. You can still feel the mud sliding under your feet, you recognize the sensation of rocks and bits of dead branches catching in your boots, but none of that matters now that you’re here.

Makeout Point no longer looks like a mildly haunted hangout for people looking to bring a bit of a thrill back into their lives. The rough campground atmosphere has vanished in the wake of springtime. The sky overhead is still grey, still covered over with clouds, but they’re thinning, bathing the spot in the promise of sunshine soon to come. The fire pit, made of forest found stones or carefully cultivated bricks, is overgrown with ferns and green and purple leaved clover. Dainty white flowers are brilliant in the tide of greenery, drawing the eye like a meandering path of scattered stars. As gorgeous and awe-inspiring as Makeout Point currently looks, the calm feeling that you came here for, prior to Aspen finally deciding to speak to you, is utterly absent.

The humidity has risen, and sweat dots the back of your neck while you slowly creep closer, staring up at the ocean of thick leaves and blooms and buds swaying with the breeze. It’s always been shadowed, has always sported full branches, but this is almost overkill. The branches are so heavy with buds and new growth that they’re bowing, and the gentle weight of a single bird looks like it could make them snap. You breathe in deep, fumbling with your hoodie, eager to shrug out of it, when you finally turn and spot Aspen, standing straight and tall in their normal place.

They’re waking, the obsidian gleam of their eyes mildly unfocused as they blink. The horn-like branches on their head are draped so thoroughly with vines and thick leaves, and the blooms that match the one you have back home, that all you can bring yourself to do is stare. You’d thought that Aspen looked impossible the first time you’d seen them, a being so strange but artfully put together that surely they could be nothing but animatronic, something you would normally only ever see through a movie screen. A creature pulled straight out of someone's imagination.

“Lovely,” they say, and their name for you reaches right down into your depths. Your bones, you realize, have felt like kindling placed too close to the fire, and Aspen’s voice is the bright burst of heat that finally makes everything pop. They take a step away from their spot, caught midway between two towering redwoods, and half the branches overhead seem to come with them. They have to pull free of a net of vines, so thickly overgrown that when the vines and loose branches fall, and they do, scattering like a strong storm has passed through, you have to skip back a few steps to avoid being caught in the deluge. You suck in a breath, almost choking on the sweet taste of them as your eyes catch on their shoulders. The tiny mushrooms that had dotted them all through autumn have grown, tall and thick, and faintly yellow or white, and then there are shelves of them trailing down Aspen’s biceps, edges gone periwinkle blue.

They cross the little clearing in a handful of steps, swooping you up into their arms and cradling you against their chest. The thunder of their movement startles near-by birds into screeching and taking flight, branches snapping as they take off, and then Aspen turns in place. They’re a walking, talking tilt-a-whirl that leaves you breathless until you rap your knuckles against the least green covered spot you can find, closing your eyes to try and keep them from stinging.

“St-stop spinning!” You gasp and the world jolts to a halt, leaving you blinking and panting. Aspen is ripe with the scent of growing things, and it feels like you’ve been rolling through a field absolutely chock full of sweet smelling flowers and the tang of pine. If you thought Aspen made you weak kneed before, with their scent and taste and rumbling voice, it’s nothing as to now. You’re overheated and happy to see them, and blood is rushing to all the right places—but your wanting is so terribly strong that it still leaves you feeling off kilter.

“I have to ask,” you get out, doing your best to breathe through your mouth. It doesn’t help much, you can still taste everything on the back of your tongue, can see their wooden jaw lowering, writhing tongues just barely visible. “In Spring, your… You said once, that I made you feel like Spring when—”

“Ahh,” Aspen murmurs, and then very, very gently, lowers you back to your feet. They keep hold of your shoulder until you’re standing straight, and only then do they take a few careful steps away.

The space is a little maddening, even though you’d been hoping for it so you could get your head in order. You have to swallow to keep from following after them, to tamp down the urge to move your feet and instead make your mouth speak. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, knowing where you come from,” you say with a wry laugh, clutching tightly at your sweater sleeves. “...Does, has your presence always been a kind of aphrodisiac in spring-time? Or is that just with me?”

Aspen flutters those little fern eyelashes, slowly crouching, elbows resting on their knees. Considering. “Perhaps it has been. I don’t intentionally give back what was given to me, but it’s hardly outside the realm of possibility.”

And it might well explain why, even after it became a little less cool to wander through the forest rather than head to the movies, couples still continued to flock here. You’d noticed that Aspen had fed from your pleasure, had bloomed every time you kissed or touched, so it isn’t entirely a surprise to know that they feed upon others. Granted, in a much less hands on kind of way.

“Does it make you uncomfortable?” Aspen asks, reaching for you, and then thinking better of it. Their long, branch-like fingers curl, hesitating before dropping back to their side. “While I am wonderfully glad to see your face, Lovely, if you want to leave—”

You wave away their words, closing your eyes to see if that will help with anything. The ache of yearning for them is still very much present, but you’ve yearned for their touch since the night you first had it. It’s stronger now, but you were still able to reason through it enough to ask. You were still able to stop yourself and think before stripping off your clothes. You forget to breathe through your mouth though, and that sweet scent makes you shudder, makes your mouth grow terribly dry and then fill with saliva to overcompensate. If you stay, or if you wait and come back when the height of spring has passed, what will change? You’ll still want Aspen. Still crave their company and the refuge that their home has become. You’ll still want their touch. You’re just… A little more horny than normal right now, and a little more willing to speak about it.

“Not leaving,” you finally say, blinking your eyes open when one of their fingers presses against your shoulder. You’re swaying forward, most of your weight balanced against their precarious hold. “I want- I want to stay, but I have to tell you: All I can think about is getting out of my clothes.” Whether the statement might have shamed you normally or not doesn’t seem to matter. The words are so overwhelmingly true that a weight vanishes from your shoulders, decision made. You do your best to slow your movements though, trying to straighten your stance as you lift both hands to grab hold of their arm. Your fingertips brush over the spongy edge of a mushroom on their forearm, and another mushroom promptly pops into existence right next to your hand.

“Oh, good,” Aspen says, reaching out for you with both hands now. You let them lead you close, let them lift your feet onto the bend of their knee, leaving you within range of their mouth. “I dreamed of you while I slept,” they confide in you, and the deep rumble of their words makes your knees want to buckle.

Even with the heavy humidity pressing in on you from all sides, making your back faintly damp with sweat and pushing your hands to quest for zippers and buttons, your brain is still working. A flicker of half recalled knowledge about dreams clamors for attention. If they were dreaming of you, if Aspen is more akin to humans that either of you think, their dreams were recent, had in the moments or days just before waking. Maybe that was why the bloom grew, why it started budding, why whenever you breathed in the faint scent of nectar, you started to ache for the lack of them. “And what did I do in these dreams?”

For a single second, Aspen looks abashed, ducking their head close enough for you to press a kiss upon. Their eyes fall closed when you brush your lips on their face. Your hoodie comes off, tossed over your shoulder to land somewhere upon the carpet of multicolored clovers. “Shall I tell you? Or would you rather I show you?”

There it is. Their mouth opens, a single fingertip finding your chin. It’s softer than normal and cool compared to the normally temperate feeling of their wooden body, and you have a split second to glance down and see that those blue edged mushrooms are growing along the length of their finger. Then Aspen is tilting your head back to kiss you. Like the first kiss you’d shared, they start out slow. A single, sticky-sweet tendril traces your lips until you part them and then slips into your mouth to curl around your tongue. You suck on it, hands pausing in their overeager quest to strip off your clothes. You want to brace yourself against Aspen’s face, to press your hands to their chin as you roll your tongue, arousal flooding you so fiercely that you can barely breathe. You forget about your clothes entirely when you tilt your head back a little more, gasping as another one of those thin green tongues flicks out to touch your lower lip. Aspen’s hand, gentle in the middle of your back until now, curls around your torso, fingertips pressing a little uncomfortably into your ribs. They groan, in that lovely, low tone of theirs, the noise filling you up with a gentle, steady vibration until you wonder if you could get off on that alone.

You pull back, just trying to get a hint of space to breathe, but Aspen chases after you, more green tendrils flicking against your lips and trying to slip into your mouth until you gasp out for them to slow. You tip your head to rest against theirs, breathing hard and smiling too wide, and then get back to the business of shedding your clothing. Aspen’s grip on you trembles, but they allow you the space to shuck what feels like yards of material, fingers tensing like they half want to help. They tried, just the once, in the very middle of November, thumb and forefinger pinching at the end of your sleeve. They’d been careful, truly, but Aspen had still moved a little too fast, a little too sure. They’d split the seams of one of your jackets at the arm and then nearly dropped you in fright. For both your sakes, it’s better that you handle most of your own clothing. Now they just stick to watching. You can catch the vague shape of yourself in the dark mirror of their eyes, and can feel the soft wind of their breath on your quickly bared skin.

“Is all of this you?” You ask, looking away when your face becomes a little too clear in their large eyes. Makeout Point is rife with plants now, and looks more like humans haven’t been in the area for decades as opposed to a single winter. A cool drop of water splashes onto your shoulder from the crown of greenery still circling their horn-like branches. You jump, and Aspen reaches out to swipe the scattered droplets away with their finger while you unlace your boots and push your clothes down your hips. “The new growth. The flowers.”

Aspen hums, turning their finger until the new blue tinged mushrooms drag over your skin, leaving behind a trail that tingles, even after they’ve stopped. “I suspect so. I’ve never been quite so ardent in my dreams of spring as I was this year. But then I’ve never gone to my dreaming knowing I may well wake to your Lovely face.” The end of their finger comes to a stop in the hollow of your throat, eyes dropping to watch you swallow, to watch your pulse speed faster. You shake one of your legs, letting your boot drop to the ground and clothes slide down your skin. You switch, uncaring about the muddy boot print you’re putting your foot back down on. The other boot and the rest of your clothes drop to the ground. The chill in the air is all but gone, or what senses you have that would notice it have been overwhelmed by lust alone. The press of your thighs, the warmth of your own skin, is enough to make you want to slide your hand down yourself. As impatient as you are though, you want Aspen’s touch more. You tilt back your head again, reaching out to rest your hands against their jaw—and pause.

“After this, the growing is going to get a little out of hand, isn’t it? Will I still be able to make it through when it comes time to leave?”

It takes a fair amount of effort for Aspen to drag their eyes away from you, but they make a quick glance around Makeout Point, noting the shiver in the still moving plants. “I won’t let the forest cage you,” Aspen promises and then huffs when you grab hold of one of the dangling vines twisted about the branches on their head. They let you tug, let you pull their attention back to you, and their eyelids lower as you tilt back your head for another kiss. When Aspen’s vine-like tongues curl around your tongue this time, there’s more than just the one. They angle their head to the side, pale green shoots tracing your lips before pushing into your mouth with the others. Aspen doesn’t choke you, leaves plenty of room to breathe, but it’s still a little overwhelming, have that many vines snaking into your mouth. They twist and writhe against your tongue, drag over the edges of your teeth like they enjoy the sensation, and desperate ache for them grows stronger, until it feels like you shouldn’t need to breathe. Aspen picks you up off their knee, a deep rumble echoing through their chest when you keep hold of them.

They’re slower even than they were the first time, without the cushion of your clothes to keep your skin from pressing too hard on some of their fingers. They cradle your back and neck and head with one hand, while the other curls around your hips and thighs as they stand up straight. The rush of movement is strange when you’re still holding onto their face, still sucking on their tongues, eyes closed, but you don’t care about it right now. You trust them, and nerves have been pushed far to the wayside when you want them so badly that every inch of you feels like it’s on fire.

There’s a gentle pressure as they urge you to open your legs, but you barely need the prompting. You part your thighs willingly, gasping when they finally pull their mouth away from yours, tongues flickering over the hollow of your throat and along your collarbone. You expect them to lift you higher, to angle you towards their mouth as their tongues are still sliding down your chest. Instead Aspen’s thumb, ridged with those blue edged mushrooms, drags over the top of your thigh. That tingling feeling spreads over your skin and then your legs start to shake as the mushrooms press between your legs, soft and growing warm from your own body heat. The tingling sensation turns sharp as they stroke their thumb gently over you, and you can’t help but whimper when they drag the gills of the mushroom down to your ass and then back up. You can’t see what it looks like with their head in the way, Aspen’s fern eyelashes closed as their tongues curl and pluck at one of your nipples, but it's starting to feel like the mushrooms must be secreting something slick. The next drag of their thumb, the tip of it pressing into you, makes you arch and moan. You reach back to grasp at the finger bracing your head, legs shaking as you get closer to orgasm and then Aspen pauses, one of their tongues fluttering over the edge of their wooden mouth.

“Did you dream of me, Lovely?” They ask, but not entirely like they expect you to answer. “Was that why you rushed to see me when spring dawned?”

“Yes,” you gasp, immediately. That was partially why you came, but every inch of you is hot, and you’re still right on the precipice of coming. It’s too hard to cobble together a coherent sentence.

Aspen’s thumb pushes and turns and then your eyes are rolling into the back of your head as you come, breath leaving your lungs in a harsh, almost painful gasp. Their mouth finds you as you do, slick, sticky vines pushing into you alongside their mushroom ridged thumb. They drink down your pleasure, moaning when your thighs tremble against their face. They don’t seem to notice when you dig your fingernails into the smooth wood of their skin, they just keep moving, the pressure of their tongues and thumb leaving you full and clenching as you finally whimper. “Fuck, fuck, fu- Aspen! Aspen, I’m-” You buck against their face, noise dying on your parted lips as that only presses them deeper. You kick out your leg, bare toes brushing over the moss on their shoulder, but that only makes Aspen adjust their hold.

Maybe it’s because it’s spring time, or because yearning for you has been building up in them as steadily as it had for you during the winter, but even after you stop shaking, even after your legs go limp, Aspen isn’t quite done. Their thumb pulling out of you makes your back bow again, and then they turn you over. You’re on your stomach in their giant hands, Aspen’s tongues filling you up over and over again before you breathlessly ask for them to cease. Your legs feel like jelly, and that strange, hot ache has finally ebbed.

When you blink, glancing around the circle of trees, it looks like the forest has erased all signs of humanity. Vines are thick and tangled over every inch of the area, laced between trees. Ferns peek out from the ground, and those pale, white blossoms are scattered around the area like wedding petals. Aspen’s next lick is gentle, cleaning rather than fucking, and you shudder in their hold.

“I don’t know if I want to leave,” you mumble, tired and sated. “I missed you something awful.”

There’s a creaking noise and then you clutch at their fingers as they sit, flowers and leaves puffing up into the air and raining back down. Aspen carefully turns you to sit on their thigh, arranging you against their midsection until you’re lounging and grinning for all their effort. “...shall I come with you?” They ask, and when you glance up at them their head is tilted to the side. “While I know you will return now, it’s always difficult to part.” Aspen hesitates and then places a fingertip to your lips, eyes filling with pleasure when you kiss it tiredly.

You’ve watched them turn back into nothing more than a tree in the presence of others, and… And a bigger yard would be nice. A backyard, you amend, thinking of neighbors catching sight of a moving tree, or simply noting the fact that a tree has switched places somehow overnight. “Not yet,” you say, trying and failing to hold back your grin. “I think the park rangers and the rest of the town might notice if you were following my car back to my house. But… But soon. I would like that.”

Aspen hums again, that deep rumbling noise making you warm a fraction. “Simply tell me when, Lovely, and I will always follow,” Aspen vows, and plucks your hoodie out of the nest of vines. They spread it over you like a blanket and a spiral of flowers blooms along their forearm.

...Maybe you should just find a house out in the middle of the forest.

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[quinncupine]

Hiiii quinn! I never realised you did requests but if it would be fine (and also because its my sole goal) could you do a boom boom boi and izubby with having their own cat or dog as a pet??? I'm seriously thinking that boom boom boi would be both a cat and dog person, don't u agree? (Ily lots and don't feel pressured to do this if you have a lot of stuff going on!)

Hi Dorki! I'm finally making my way through my requests and I was really excited to write this one! Okay, hope you like it!

Quinns Masterlist

Wanna request something?

The Boys with Pets

Word Count: 1,750

Featuring: Izuku Midoriya and Katsuki Bakugo!

Warnings: dogs, cats, cursing

Izuku Midoriya

Now Izuku loves pretty much all animals, but I can totally see him getting a dog. Dogs are loyal and full of energy just like a certain green-haired hero. The perfect duo.

He would probably rescue one from the pound, the one with the biggest, saddest, cutest eyes because how could he not? But someone has to go with him because he'd try to rescue them all if there was no one there to stop him. Once a hero, always a hero I suppose.

I'm thinking for names, he would definitely pick a name that reflects his favorite heroes. Don't be surprised if he names his dog something super cheesy like Mighty or Rocky…

Wait, okay, I've decided, he names his dog Mighty and that is the hill I will die on.

The life of a hero is quite busy so when he goes off on long missions, he drops the dog off at his mom's house. Inko has fallen in love with this sweet pup, so much so that she sometimes begs him to stop by with the dog for a visit. It's the closest thing she's got to grandbabies at the moment, she'll take what she can get :)

Now, this cute pup draws in the attention of just about everyone so he's gotten an influx of attention and a few numbers slipped in his hand during their walks, much to his flustered surprise.

Best wingman ever.

This dog goes on regular runs with Izuku and sometimes even helps him with training. I'm thinking a Collie or an Aussie would just be the perfect fit for him to keep up with his personality and lifestyle. He needs an active dog!

I can see it now, he goes on his daily morning runs with this cute Lil furry training buddy and they race the whole way! A few regulars on the trail know about this and it's become sort of a tradition to cheer the two on as they pass.

 ...

The morning air was crisp with the slight scent of the coming autumn, the perfect morning for a run. Izuku, dressed in his usual training wear, had a steady rhythm going for the last forty minutes, letting out even, controlled breaths. This was the easy part of the run, a warm-up if anything, and he hadn't even broken a sweat yet. The canine jogging by his side was enjoying the dewy morning air as well, tongue happily flopping out the side of her mouth. The shared morning ritual between man and man's best friend: Mighty.

Her tail picked up speed, wagging uncontrollably as they neared the bend where the giant jagged rock towered over the path. It was the place marker to start the race. A three-mile run to the top of the hill located at the center of the park. It was also Mighty's favorite part of the morning.

"Ready girl?" Izuku grinned down at the ecstatic dog who barked in reply.

The instant the two of them passed the big rock, they both broke out in full speed, leaving behind a cloud of dust. Happy barks filled the air as she gained the upper hand. Izuku laughed as the dog turned to look back at him lagging behind her. He always did these races without his quirk to assist him. It was only fair and it helped him work on his natural stamina in case he was ever in a situation where he couldn't use his quirk. Always good to be prepared.

He watched as she bounded up the first steep hill on the trail. There were a few small hills on this route, but this one was the hardest to climb and Mighty had the advantage with her four legs so she always managed to pull ahead first. She stopped at the top and barked him on before quickly disappearing over the crest.

When he reached the top, he stopped for just a second to take in his surroundings. This part of the park was a heavily wooded area with numerous trails that many people used to hike or run. It also served as a great view of the city skyline and he couldn't help but stop and admire the rising sun from between the foggy buildings every time. Then Mighty barked to pull him out of his thoughts.

"It's not over yet!" He called after her and raced down the hill, putting on an extra burst of speed to easily close the distance.

Tail wagging, she nipped playfully at his feet as they sprinted along the path, side by side. There weren't many people out this early so he usually had the trail to himself. The only sounds were the wind in the trees, the leaves crunching under feet and paws, Mighty barking beside him, and his own unrestrained glee as they ran together.

These were the mornings he loved. Just the two of them, away from the stresses that came with pro-hero work. He wouldn't trade being a hero for anything, but sometimes it got to be too much so coming here to clear his mind with a little run was always a cathartic release, only made better by the furry companion by his side.

The short bridge that arched over the creek signaled the last mile. Getting more serious, Izuku pulled ahead of Mighty, not able to hold back the giant grin as he streaked across the bridge, startling a few birds off the railings which Mighty barked at as she came up behind him.

Up ahead was a large open meadow with a small duck pond near the center. A few benches were scattered about the path and he saw the same elderly couple sitting in their usual spot with a bag of rice and seed to feed the plethora of ducks waddling around their feet.

"You got him this time Mighty!" The old man looked up as the two of them zipped down the path towards the couple.

"Show 'em what girls can do!" The woman cracked a smile, waving her hands.

"Morning Mr. and Mrs. Fujino!" Izuku waved as he passed. "Don't count me out yet!"

Mighty barked her greeting and took a detour, herding some ducks closer to the couple then with a quick lick to Mr. Fujino's hand, she sprinted back to catch up to Izuku.

The Fujino's marked the last leg of the race. The only thing left was to climb the top of the largest hill in the park to the old oak tree at the top. That was the finishing line. It was always a gamble as to who finished first every day, but Mighty sure had a competitive spirit.

Izuku pumped his legs as he steadily made his way up to the dirt trail, Mighty just behind him before she suddenly veered left and disappeared into the shrubbery. He was so focused on the tree that slowly came into view just around the curve as he neared the top that he didn't notice.

Just as the path leveled out, almost to the finish line, he glanced back to see no sign of his dog. The tree was a few feet away when a furry mass ambushed him from the side, knocking him clean off his feet. The pro hero landed in the grass with a heavy Oof. Sitting on his chest was Mighty, looking quite proud of herself.

"Cheater!" He laughed, trying his best to hold back the slobbery licks she was determined to give him. "Okay, okay, I'll call it a tie!"

 Katsuki Bakugo

Now Katsuki on the other hand would totally be a cat person. Not that he has anything against dogs, but cats are more his style. They don't need constant attention and are pretty much self-sufficient. Just the way he likes it.

That being said, Katuski would go all out on toys and the latest gizmos to take care of his cat. Has a self-cleaning litter box, a waterfall bowl, an automatic feeder, etc. You get the picture.

Oh, and toys galore. If he has space, this cat is getting a personal jungle gym that lets him walk up to the ceiling. S.P.O.I.L.E.D.

Doesn't like to tell people just how much he actually loves this cat because he's never been one to express emotions, but this cat just gets him to his core. They share the same wavelength and he appreciates that. The cat is the only one he trusts to open up to, so sometimes you might catch him ranting to the poor thing who just stares back with big wide eyes and occasional meows. Yup, totally gets him.

I see him with a super chill cat, like maybe a Ragdoll or a Russian Blue. Something that tolerates his constant screaming and explosions.

This guy is just as bad at names. It'll definitely be something long and dramatic like Lord Cat Explosion Demon God of Furballs. Yep. He doesn't take criticism so most people call him Lord Furballs, much to his disdain.

Katsuki won't ask for attention from the cat, but the little furry feline is a total cuddler and will often find itself curled up in his lap or even on his neck if Katsuki's sitting on the couch. You better believe this guy won't be moving until that cat decides it's time to move. He's been late to meetings with friends because of this cuddly cat.

He's a hero so this cat is definitely being treated right. Katuski is no slacker when it comes to caring for his lil buddy. The vet is on speed dial should anything ever happen.

Did someone say a custom-made collar that matches his hero costume to a tee?

He's never loved anything more.

 ...

"Uh, hey Bakubro, why is your cat glaring at me?" Ejiro asked, staring down at the feline.

"What?" Katsuki didn't even bother to look up from his laptop.

"Your cat. It's giving me the evil eye. I thought it was supposed to be friendly." The red-haired hero frowned, not able to break eye contact with the cat. "I don’t think it likes me."

The small furry creature had lazily curled up in the sunspot next to Katsuki's feet, purring away without a care in the world. It seemed harmless enough, except for the heavy glare it was shooting Ejiro's way.

"Heh," Katsuki finally glanced down and crossed his arms. "He's not glaring. That's just his face."

"Ah," Ejiro nodded, "like father like son."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean!?"

Taglist: @thecindy @peachsenpie @awilddreamerwrites @miriobaby @kiyoobi @dragonsdreamoffire @amive2567 @justscar @kenmaskitten10 @freckledoriya

[uponrightful]

If this is greater than 500 or been asked before I'm sorry !!

But what about from Wolffe's POV:

“Please. Look at me.” Unencumbered by the modulator, that low voice sounded clearer than ever. Not even in her dreams could she hear that constant burr all the clones had. Especially Wolffe. Weakened by his command, she tilted her gaze up.

The girl broke into a loud sob.

Bi-colored eyes stared deep into hers, searching past her watery eyes with a fierceness that left her hands fumbling for purchase. On anything. Anywhere. And after a few seconds, her heart decided on his face. Her cries deepened, as she pulled herself closer to him. Burying her face to his exposed neck, all in weakness of seeing that beautiful scar over his face. She saw that golden glitter in his eye, and the soft expression she’d dreamt of over and over again. She felt the heat of his skin against her face, bringing her even closer to the lucid dreams she’s spent the past years of life in just to get one more night of feeling him.

“You found me.” She moaned into his neck, releasing fear-filled cries against him. She just hoped it was real. That he was truly back, and not under that evil influence that had terrified

her for so long. “Please, don’t hurt me again.” She pleaded, gripping harshly at the edges of his armor, pulling him impossibly closer despite her fright. “You found me.”

It was too much all at once. His smell, his voice, the sound of his heart, his arms suddenly wrapping tight around her waist as she fell further into him. She remembered that strength, holding her in the early morning hours, securing her to his bare chest like there was nowhere in the galaxy he’d rather be. Protecting her, and silently loving her even while asleep. Now, down on her knees in the snow, it was all she could do to hold onto him. All she knew was that she’d found him. And whatever it was telling her she was safe, this time she was certain she could trust it. Hearing him say speak so softly… it was all she could take.

“I found you Wolffe.”

Their reunion just really got me 😍

Commentary Track for Welcome Company

Copy 500 words -or more- of any of my fics and I’ll give my thoughts/rambles on what was going through my head -or the character’s- when I wrote it!

*Send one in here*

Oh my 🤍🤍 This one makes me so happy 😍😍 Let's get into it!

***

Wolffe hadn't heard Mando'a apart from Rex for years. And even then, Rex wasn't the most habitual with it. Only muttered phrases, or using it as a reassurance of sensitive information when they weren't sure who was listening in. Being Bounty Hunters meant that the pair heard a lot of languages, but nothing sounded quite like Mando'a. They'd met thousands of people traversing the galaxy hunting targets for petty pay-outs, all of them with particular voices, and lilts that set them apart from everyone else. But... there was one voice that Wolffe wanted to hear so badly, listening for her everywhere, all the time.

So when he heard that sweet voice, that soft burr of Mando'a, Wolffe felt like the entire galaxy has stopped spinning. His heart was beating out of his chest, and he felt fearful that it was just another false alarm. That his mind was playing another cruel trick on him for being so kriffing hopeful all this time. But he couldn't chance it, and turned around to see his entire world standing right there before him like she'd never left. Wolffe had spent so long looking that actually seeing Pup felt like a dream. There was a mirage-like effect that kept him from speaking her name, or even realizing that his appearance was probably not a welcome one.

He tried to say something... anything. But nothing but a failed choke could be heard over the blustering snow and wind around them. He saw her flinch, the way her whole body shied away from him then. In that moment he recognized a shocking fear; One that came from seeing a man in armor, and of what they could do when their mind wasn't their own. Wolffe didn't know what to do. He did want to keep her from running, but by the way things were going already, his chances didn't look good. He opened his mouth to try and speak again, but before he could get anything out she utterly collapsed.

"Please don't hurt me."

It cuts Wolffe down to the bone to hear her say those words. They echo painfully in his mind and he feels the weight of his incompetence and broken promises to her fall in a fiery crash all around him. All he ever wanted was to keep her safe... Protect her from the things he'd spent his whole life fighting to ignore and suffering through nightmares because of. Her cries were painful, and attacking his heart in a way that was too excruciating to ignore. Wolffe knew he'd been absent, and he blamed himself wholly, but he couldn't resist from trying to reassure her that he wanted nothing more than to hold her again.

Note: Wolffe is a man of action. He's not good with words, and often they just fail him completely. And when I drafted the first cut of this chapter, I didn't use Wolffe's point of view because I wanted to focus on Pup's first sight of a clone in general. I wanted you to experience that fear alongside her, and although you knew it was Wolffe all along, she doesn't know that. And even if her mind had allowed for it, she still would've been wholly fearful of him anyways.

Note: Wolffe's blame isn't well-founded. He has a skewed idea of what is really his fault and what isn't because he remembers everything he did under the influence of his inhibitor chip. Although he couldn't fight it, Wolffe still holds himself to such a high standard that he honestly believes that he just wasn't good enough to fight against it. This is part of his weakness as a character, and more so as a man in general. He thinks strength is something he has to possess all the time; That showing weakness is a sign of his inability to perform the tasks he was created for. (And aside from loving Pup, Wolffe is very harsh on himself when that standard isn't upheld to the fullest.)

Every movement was deliberately slow. Wolffe could see her terror, and for once in his life, he thought that maybe showing her his face might be the only thing that would put someone at ease. The one part of him that he hated most was the only proof that he was still the man she'd been so kind to love in the first place. The same scar and eye that Pup had so softly fawned over, and loved like it had always been a part of him. Her eyes were bloodshot and overflowing with fat and heavy tears, darting everywhere but at his visor... It broke his heart, and he wanted to help it stop, but she needed this to be done right. And that meant slowly. The second she shied away, Wolffe felt the first pinch of his own emotion beginning to take over. His chest burned and pressure started building behind his eyes. His baby... His precious girl was so terrified that she couldn't bear it.

"Please. Look at me."

Wolffe knew his voice wasn't enough. And his plead was desperate, begging for her to take a chance that she had every right to ignore. But something in him was adamant. Maybe it was knowing that he was this close and it was up to her to decide whether this could go any further, or maybe Wolffe just needed to see her face again. It'd been so long, and he'd not forgotten a single detail, but there was nothing that compared to seeing her somewhere other than his dreams.

It was instant recognition, and Wolffe was utterly torn apart with relief when she lurched towards him. It was galaxy-shattering to feel her hands on him, and see that fear instantly transition into shock that matched his own. Her fingers were frozen, and Wolffe finally began to take in the first signs that Pup was actually not in the best health in that moment. But he couldn't pay proper attention to it with her cold nose and hot panting breath fanning his neck.

She's really here. I can hold her again. I don't have to keep looking anymore... hurting anymore. She's safe. My baby is right where she belongs.

"You found me."

He's been trying not to move too fast, but she's holding onto him too tight; Practically climbing into his lap to get closer. And Wolffe is a patient man, but he can't resist from wrapping his arms around her and hauling her as tight to his chest as he can. She's fucking shaking, from the immense fear and shock, but from this nasty weather that's made her coat almost rock-hard from frozen sweat and body heat. Wolffe knows she's in danger of over-exposure, and now that he's certain she's safe, it takes almost immediately takes priority.

The first thing Wolffe does is cry.

It's not a soft relief of tears, nor is it the quiet kind that soldiers hide beneath their helmet when they're afraid of showing their humanity. These are the kind that hurt. The ones that make your chest feel like it's being cracked open and your head is being pressed by a vice. Wolffe cries like the day his chip was removed; And despite not remembering that day, he couldn't care less that an entire outpost of people are watching him cling to this little woman he's wailing over. It's the rawest emotion Wolffe has ever felt in his life, and for all of the loss and guilt he feels, that's a fucking statement he's not surprised by in the slightest.

Pup is his motivation. She's always been his light at the end of the tunnel, and his reason to keep going when he didn't feel like he could physically do it any longer. He spent his whole life believing that he wasn't worthy of anything good, or wholesome. And right when he's at his lowest, someone -or something- decides that what he needs is a woman with a soft voice and a love for him that is unmatched and limitless. Wolffe clings to that with everything in him, just to have her ripped away again. Now he's holding her. Soothing her at her lowest point, and wondering just what he did to have another second chance and falling apart with gratitude and pure fucking love for this woman because even after all this time she still found it in herself to love him.

So Wolffe cries like never before, because love is the most painful thing he's ever felt before. But he would've have it any other way.

***

Thank you for the request my love 🤍

I tried to focus more on Wolffe here than on my own thoughts while writing. I don't get to write from his perspective often anymore and I really loved getting the opportunity to do so! So thank you for letting my give Wolffe some much-deserved love!

[jaskierswolf]

What Form Love Takes

Summary: Geralt and Jaskier return once again to Kaer Morhen, only this time they're travelling high in the skies.

- Can be read as stand-alone - Part 8 of my Shapeshifter!Jaskier AU

CW: Non-sexual/non-graphic nudity (they take a bath)

___________

The fire in Jaskier’s lungs burned as he flew over the mountains. Another year on the path had come and gone. Winter was creeping in, a slow frost carpeting the Continent, tendrils reaching further south with each day. Both Jaskier and Geralt were anxious to return to their home in the Blue Mountains. They’d spent most of the year searching for Yennefer of Vengerberg with no success. Sorceresses were funny people and hard to track down. Jaskier had no doubt that the witch would turn up when she was ready. He roared as the crumbling keep came into sight, a pillar of flames bursting free from his lungs. The colours of the flame danced in front of his eyes, more vibrant in this form than any other. He could see the heat haze rippling through the air and he had to resist the urge to dive and spin through the air, dancing in the waves his flame had created.

But he had a rather fragile witcher on his back who would not be able to hold on if he were to dive the way he wanted. Geralt’s arms already had a death grip around his neck and the flight had been pretty steady so far. He heard his mate groan and felt the slight pressure of Geralt’s head pressing into his scales.

He snorted a smoke ring and flew through it. Flying was a phenomenal feeling. Geralt was just whining for the sake of it.

“Jask…”

Jaskier snorted again. There wasn’t much else he could say to his darling mate in this form without using telepathy, and he had never quite mastered that skill. He had a habit of barrelling into memories instead of placing his thoughts in the other’s mind. So he preferred to avoid it. Instead he just sniffed the air. The scent of roasted venison hit his senses, making his stomach rumble. He peered out over the horizon, a small smoke stack was puffing above the keep. Vesemir already had dinner on the go. Jaskier let out a happy rumble, not too dissimilar to a purr, and he felt Geralt’s finger brush the scales of his neck.

“What have you seen?” Geralt asked, still sounding a little queasy from their flight from Oxenfurt.

He pointed his snout towards the keep that was growing larger the closer they approached. Geralt should be able to see it now with his witcher senses.

“Kaer Morhen,” Geralt hummed and Jaskier nodded. He resisted the urge to dive towards their home. Instead he started a slower descent. When they got closer he still he began to circle the keep, getting lower with every turn.

He roared when he spotted Eskel and Vesemir waiting for the in the courtyard, another pillar of fire tore through the sky before he landed with a heavy thud on the ground. The two witchers waved them down.

“Always a dramatic entrance, bard,” Eskel laughed, reaching out his hand so that Jaskier could bump his snout against the palm of Eskel’s hand.

“We were late setting off.”

“We were starting to worry,” Vesemir huffed, arms crossed in front of his chest. Jaskier felt a swell of bitter pride in his chest. How dare this witcher insinuate that he couldn’t look after his mate? He was a dragon! He let out a low snarl, warmth heating up in his lungs.

“Easy, Jask,” Geralt rubbed the back of his neck in a warning. It wasn’t enough to incapacitate him but it did send a slight ripple of warmth down his spine. He blinked, forcing down his more draconic urges, and focussed on the voice of his mate. “Where’s Lambert?” Geralt asked, not removing his grip from Jaskier’s neck.

“He got caught up in Nilfgaard with that cat of his,” Vesemir grunted “they’re alive.”

Jaskier snorted, tail flicking against the ground. He was looking forward to having his family back together again, the disappointment was almost overwhelming. It wasn’t fair. They already had to walk the path alone throughout the year and now he couldn’t even see them for winter. Geralt must have sensed his distressed as he nuzzled his face against Jaskier’s neck.

“Wintering in Nilfgaard seems pretty cushy to me,” Eskel noted. “A lot less cold.”

Jaskier hissed at the blond witcher, earning himself a laugh from Geralt. “We miss them too, Jask.”

“We’ll get together in the summer for one of the festivals?” Eskel suggested. “There’s always plenty of contracts around then, I think the wine gets to everyone’s head.”

“Good idea.”

Jaskier let out a rumble of agreement before shaking Geralt from his back. The smell of venison in this form was too much, it was making him hungry and he had to dig his craws into the stones to stop himself from charging through the keep to the kitchens. He needed to change from this form, and fast.

Geralt landed next to him and pulled off the makeshift saddlebags with their belongs. Jaskier closed his eyes, letting his magic loose, rippling out in waves over the shiny red scales until pink skin morphed back into view. He landed on his hands and knees on the stone, the chill of the mountainous winter breeze quickly seeping into his bones. “Bollocks,” he hissed and launched himself into Geralt’s waiting arms. “It’s fucking freezing.”

Geralt chuckled and wrapped his arms around Jaskier, shielding him from the wind. Jaskier felt the press of Geralt’s lips on his hair and he sighed happily. The wind might be like shards of ice cutting into his skin but his lover was attentive and Jaskier felt safe in his arms. “We’ve had a long journey, we’ll be down for dinner,” Geralt told the oldest witcher before pulling Jaskier inside the keep. They dumped their bags in the entrance hall before making a beeline for the hot springs that lay deep within the keep, the only part of the building that remained unscathed from the battles of so long ago.

Jaskier shivered violently in Geralt’s arms. He should have transformed into something with fur first but he’d been stuck without words as they flew over the continent for hours, barely taking a break.  His back and shoulder were aching from the journey, a phantom pain where his wings had been. The hot springs would do wonders for the aches. “H. Home,” he stammered through chattering teeth.

Geralt hummed, fingers rubbing circles into his upper arm as they walked. The corridors grew darker as they walked further down, soon the light from the windows and cracks in the wall faded away and the only light left was the glow from the torches along the wall. Geralt held his hand out in front of them, a tiny little ball of fire in his palm. It wasn’t much but the heat from the flames was blissful.

Fuck, humans really weren’t meant for the winters of Kaer Morhen. This year must have been colder than usual, as Jaskier could have sworn that he could usually at least stand outside long enough to strip out of his clothes, perhaps the weariness from the journey had worn him down more than he thought. Now that he thought about it he eyes were starting to droop and Geralt was practically carrying him through the corridors.

“‘M tired…”

“I know.”

Jaskier wanted to make a joke about Geralt’s ever eloquent ways but his tongue felt too heavy in his mouth. Bath, food and a good sleep. That’s what he wanted.

The air was thick with steam as they pushed the door open into the springs. Jaskier sighed happily as the heat prickled against his skin. He took one look at the pools of water and shifted. Geralt’s hand reached up to hold his medallion as Jaskier’s magic whipped out around them, the crack of bones bouncing off the walls. The room grew bigger and he fell to the ground on four paws, scratching against the wet stones as he scurried to the water’s edge. He chosen this form well. He knew he was too tired to bathe without falling asleep and he would really rather not drown. He squeaked up at Geralt before diving into the water.

It was warm, hotter than the water he’d usually have liked in this form. The otters of this species were used to cold open sea water but he wanted to float. He swam under the water for a while, letting the warmth seep into his fur before breaching the surface. He rolled onto his back and closed his eyes, keeping his paws tucked into his chest.

“Jaskier,” Geralt chuckled and Jaskier felt himself float a little further, the water rippling as Geralt finally joined him. “We can’t stay here for too long, love.”

Jaskier squeaked, not opening his eyes. He would stay here forever if he could.

“Are otters really that fluffy?”

Another squeak, and he cracked one eye open to glare at Geralt. His anger didn’t last long when he saw the look Geralt was giving him. It was unbearably fond, head tilted and a soft smile on his face. His hair had come loose from the leather hair tie on the back of his head, and water was clinging to his chest, caught in the dark grey tuffs of hair. Jaskier felt a swell of love in his heart, it was almost too much. He’d spent so many years worrying that he would never find a partner that would accept his true self, hiding his magic away like it was a dirty secret. If he felt himself falling in love then he would sneak out of the window in the dead of night, never to return.

He’d been convinced that no one would ever love him when they knew what he was, and he wasn’t willing to give his heart away to someone that couldn’t accept him. Geralt had blown past all those walls in an instant, and somehow Jaskier had managed to worm his way past the witcher’s own defences, finding both a lover and a new pack to call his own.

He pushed at the water with his paws and floated over to where Geralt was sat at the edge of the pools, he didn’t want to lose Geralt. He couldn’t loose Geralt. He reached out to his partner with his paws, with a quiet squeak.

“I love you too,” Geralt breathed in a soft voice, like he was in awe of Jaskier. As if the witcher wasn’t the most incredible creature on the whole Continent.

Geralt let Jaskier hold onto one of his fingers, tiny paws wrapping around the digit as if it were a lifeline. Jaskier chattered happily before closing his eyes, finally letting the exhaustion wash over him. He was safe, he was home, and Geralt wouldn’t let him float away.

He woke up to a gentle rocking movement, his face pressed against Geralt’s chest as the witcher carried him back to his room. He blinked, flicking his tail out behind him. It was only when he started purring that he realised he’d shifted forms in his sleep. His ears flicked out and he pawed at Geralt’s shirt.

“You only changed once I picked you up,” Geralt answered his unasked question, scratching him gently behind the ears. “I don’t think cats like the water very much.”

Jaskier meowed softly and nuzzled against Geralt’s chest. A gentle bite against Geralt’s collar was all the warning the witcher got before he let his magic ripple out over his skin. Geralt grunted under the sudden weight of the human in his arms, changing his hold so Jaskier was being carried bridal style up to their rooms. “Hey,” he mumbled sleepily “how long was I out?”

“Nearly an hour. Vesemir came to find us a few minutes ago. he’s keeping our food warm.”

Jaskier yawned and then pressed his lips to Geralt’s shoulder, sadly now covered by the tattered black shirt he wore under his armour. “I love you, darling.”

Geralt’s laughed rumbled in his chest and Jaskier smiled, still half asleep, as he buried his face in the crook of Geralt’s neck. Geralt’s hand cradled the back of his neck, carding through his hair, and Jaskier was asleep again in seconds.

The next time he woke they were back in Geralt’s bedroom, the witcher was now fully dressed in his thick winter clothes that the witchers preferred to wear in the evenings once training was done for the day. Jaskier was buried under thick furs on their bed, still naked. A roaring fire was blazing in the hearth, filling the room with its heat. “Dinner?” he asked as he blinked the sleep from his eyes. His stomach rumbled as if to repeat his question.

Geralt chuckled and crossed the room to kiss him on the top of his head. “Ready when you are.”

His stomach growled again and he grinned sheepishly. “I’m starving,” he whined. “why did you let me sleep?”

Geralt raised an eyebrow at him. “You just flew us halfway across the Continent, Jask, you needed the rest.”

“But I’m hungry,” he pouted.

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Bloody bards, never win.”

Jaskier grinned and pulled his boyfriend into a kiss, cupping Geralt’s face in his hands. “Au contraire, my love, I think you win every single day.”

“So modest,” the witcher grumbled against his lips, rubbing their noses together.

“You love me,” he purred.

“Hmm.”

Jaskier giggled and kissed Geralt again, lazily, pouring all his love into the kiss, but he blasted stomach rumbled again before the kiss could get anywhere. He whined as he pressed his forehead against Geralt’s. The witcher laughed, stroking a thumb along his cheek. “Let’s go find the others,” Geralt suggested.

“Hmm,” Jaskier replied, still pouting then with a heavy sighed he pushed Geralt away. “fine, spoilsport. Just let me get dressed first.”

Both Eskel and Vesemir were finished with their food by the time Geralt and Jaskier made it downstairs. Jaskier was wrapped up in thick wool lined clothes, a vibrant turquoise compared to Geralt’s dark navy blue ones. It wasn’t as thick as the fur he could have but he really did want to say hello to his family properly. He’d not seen Vesemir since last winter and they’d only run into Eskel once on the path.

“Greetings,” he waved at the two witchers “sorry we’re late.”

“He fell asleep again.”

“Well I’m sorry! You’re the one that lost Roach in a game of Gwent. It’s not my fault we had to fly all the way here.”

Geralt’s growled at the reminder. He’d been so sure that he could beat the arsehole but the bastard had cheated and they’d practically been run out of town, leaving Roach behind. Eskel gave a full bellied laugh, his tankard of ale crashing onto the table. “I wondered what had happened to her, it was a little soon to be replacing her.”

“She’s not dead,” Geralt grumbled, shooting daggers at Jaskier.

“We’ll find you a new horse in the spring, dearest of hearts,” he cooed, fluttering his eyelashes at his lover in attempt to soothe his anger.

“Not the point.”

“Oh ho ho!” Jaskier laughed, pulling his plate of food towards him. It was venison, of course, with thick gravy and roasted vegetables. On the side was a freshly baked roll, now a cold sadly but he really had needed to rest so he wasn’t too upset. “Grumpy witcher.”

Geralt growled again, which only made Jaskier laugh and this time Eskel and Vesemir joined in. Jaskier reached across the table to poked Geralt on the nose. “You know you don’t scare me, love.”

“Hmm.”

The dining hall echoed with the laughter of witchers, and for a brief moment Jaskier could imagine what Kaer Morhen had been like before the siege; full of witchers, brothers in arms, loyal friends and family. It made his heart ache. As much as he adored his pack, they didn’t deserve the pain of losing so many. Contrary to popular belief, these wonderfully kind beings were not meant to be alone.

He gazed around at his family, a pang of regret that Lambert and Aiden were not with them for the winter, and smiled fondly. He took Geralt’s hand under the table. The witcher raised an eyebrow at him but he shook his head. There were no words to describe this feeling, the warmth in his chest for finding the place that he belonged, the bitter pain of yearning. So many different and conflicting emotions in one single moment. How could he possibly find the words that could encompass all of that? He settled for holding Geralt’s hand under the table as they ate, joking and laughing with their family as if they’d never been away.

_____

Next

[just-my-fandom]

Death Awaits (Vanya Hargreeves x Reader)

Summary; When Vanya Hargreeves wife is put in a coma thanks to Hazel and Cha-Cha, the apocalypse arises. The other Hargreeve siblings must do all they can to stop the apocalypse, starting with making sure Y/N wakes up from her coma.

Request; Umbrella Academy Vanya story- where reader isn’t apart of the 43 children but she has powers, and she is with Vanya when Cha Cha and Hazel attack the manor, and she helps the others fight them off-her powers being able to control earth, and water, and air to where she can like cut off people’s breaths lmao fiesty- but Cha Cha gets a shot at the reader and Vanya has to watch the reader collapse with blood loss? Thanksss

Request 2; I know you said you haven’t watched Season 2 yet (Or even finished Season 1) but AH please write a story with Vanya where the reader somehow finds Vanya after they are thrown into the 1960s and Reader actually lands with Vanya and she’s scared Vanya won’t remember her?

Warning(s); Gunshots, fighting, near death, angst.

A/N; I finally finished the show! I had a lot of fun doing this story. It is EXTREMELY long. Sorry.

Another A/N; Leonard is JUST A FRIEND. Like, reader and Vanyas best friend kinda shit.

Date started; Demember 16, 2020

Date published; December 16, 2020

. . .

“Too high,”

Vanya grunts in slight irritation at your comment. Her hand slides up her violin to fix the miss-pitch of her note, eyes barely glancing at where you sat on her bed in the manor.

Your legs gently swayed, wearing black riding boots- acquaintanced with a checkered shirt you had bought not too long ago with dark jeans. Leaning on your knees, you watch as Vanya repeated her line of notes, smiling when the wrong note is now fixed,

A slight jerk of her hand causes Vanyas note to hit too low, her shoulders dropping in defeat as she huffs a breath, “It’s never right,”

“Not if you give up that easily,” You raise an eyebrow, your wife copying your motion, “Breathe, baby. You’ve got this. There’s no one else in the room but me,”

Vanya smiles, tilting her head down before raising her violin to her shoulder, starting from where she had first messed up.

A muffled gunshot directs your attention to the door, going unheard by your wife due to the music right against her ear, so when she sees your brows pinch and your body move to stand up, she stops to watch, “What is it?”

On cue, two more gunshots ring, louder, Vanya setting her violin down gently enough despite being in a rush, following after you with you already feet ahead,

You skid to a stop at the bottom of the stairway, two masked figures standing back to back with Luther on one side, Diego on the other, and Allison opposite of you,

“Stay back,” You demand to the woman behind you, Vanyas eyes shifting to the back of your head before she steps back, moving to the empty hall feet from her,

You move three steps forward before raising a hand, fingers curling as you watch the earth under you raise, the masked killers looking down when the ground cracks beneath their feet, both pushing away from each other to avoid being dropped into the earths crust, now raising their guns to you,

A gust of wind forces their guns into the air and behind them, free hand raising to throw off their masks, revealing one male, and one female,

Your fingers clench on your left hand to wrap an invisible field around the males neck, his hands instantly raising in reflex in an attempt to pry the false pressure off,

Before the woman could run back for her gun, a bubble of water wraps around her head, and the Hargreeves siblings are forced to watch her hold her breath in a panic,

“What do you want?” You hiss, moving closer to slightly drop the water from her mouth, allowing her to gasp in a choked breath,

“We just want the boy,” Cha-Cha spits, your eyes narrowing- Five. “And we’ll be on our merry way,”

“Well he’s not here,” You flick your hand to where Cha-Cha is thrown back into the wall, turning your attention to the male, Hazel. He has now turned blue due to his circulation for air being cut off, a slight smile in your face.

You drop your hand so Hazel dropped forward with his hands on his knees, gasps wheezed as he coughs and hacks for air. You lift both hands so walls of rocks came from the ground, pinning at his sides so he yelled in pain at the pressure of his body.

Then you feel it. Vanya sees it. They all see it. Your powers screech to a halt when the bullet pierces the front of your shoulder, the bolders dropping to release Hazel to collapse, your eyes widening when you see Cha-Cha lower her used gun.

Diego is first to lunge forward, catching the top half of your body before you could fully collapse, your vision already falling black before Vanya could make it to your side,

“Y/N!” Vanyas voice is high pitched, breathy, in alert, “Oh my God,”

“Get Grace,” Luther demands, jabbing his finger to Allison, who stood in high alert,

“Now!” Diego and Vanya shout, Vanya pulling off her button up so she was left in her sweater, pressing the button up to where your white and black shirt was already stained dark red,

Vanya forces herself to look up to your face, eyes shut and skin pale, Diego’s finger pressing to your neck in search for a pulse,

“We can’t wait for Grace,” He hisses, moving to lift you off the debris littered floor, Vanya following, staring at the blood that stained the ends of her sleeves,

She’s quick to follow after her brother, the robot she called her mother calmly waving Diego into the medical room that had been used too many times, Diego lowering your body into the table so Grace cut the front of your shirt, revealing the bullet wound that Vanya forced herself to look away from,

“Pogo,” Grace calls, softly, pulling on gloves as she glanced to the ape, “Please escort the children out,”

“Wait,” Vanya pleas, brows pinched as she steps up to the table, but Diego is swift to catch her at her front, leading her backwards to the door Luther and Allison stood, “I need to be with her,”

“Grace has excellent medical experience. Miss Y/N is in great hands,” Pogo reassures, Vanyas eyes snapping up to your face, before she allows the door to shut, her chest tight with fear.

. . .

“I always knew your family having powers was weird,” Leonard lowers his steaming cup from his lips, frowning, “But now it’s just scary,”

“I know,” Vanya murmurs, stirring her cup mindlessly, “Y/N was just trying to protect my family,”

“How-,” Leonard clears his throat, “How is she? By the way,”

“She’s resting. At home. She hasn’t woken up yet,” Vanya shuts her eyes, pressing her hands to her eyelids, “My tryouts for the front chair is this afternoon. I don’t know if I can do it,”

“Dont do that,” Leonard shakes his head, Vanya lowering her hands to pinch her brows, “Dont put yourself down because Y/N isn’t physically here. Just,” Leonard pauses, hand waving in thought, “Is there anything that Y/Ns ever said that just- stuck to you?”

“Breathe, baby. You’ve got this. There’s no one else in the room but me,”

Vanya smiles, nodding, slowly, “Yeah. Just this one thing. It’s always been a constant reminder she gives me when I’m rehearsing. No one else but her is in the room. Even when someone else really is in the room,”

“See?” Leonard chuckles, sipping the last bit of his coffee, “Y/N gives off that effect to make you believe what she says. She knows it’s a sense of comfort for you,”

“She’s always been good at that,” Vanya murmurs, watching Leonard set down his mug and nudge her arm, standing up,

“C’mon. I’ll walk you home. We can get your apartment nice and cozy for when Y/N gets back,”

. . .

“What is your name again?”

Vanya regrets it. She regrets everything. Coming to this audition, letting you nearly give your life for her family. She regrets it.

“Vanya,” She cant stop how low her voice is, but the conductors booming, louder, please, demands her to state, “Vanya Hargreeves,” Four notes higher.

“Right,” The conductor clicks his tongue, looking up at Vanya on the stage which makes her want to run off, “Well?”

“Breathe, baby,” Vanya nearly hears you say, as she lifts her violin to her shoulder, “You’ve got this,” She raises her bow, “There’s no one else in the room but me,” And plays,

She finishes her last note with a pause, terrified of opening her eyes, but when she does and sees the conductor staring at her in awe, she can’t help the breath she lets out, head tilting back with a smile of relief.

She had gotten the front chair.

. . .

A short gasp enters your lips. Whining out in pain, you force your head to the side. Home. How did you get here? The academy-

You sit up, shortly, crying out at the sting of pain it caused to your shoulder, eyes pinching shut before you raise your head, looking around.

“Three new voice messages,” The voicebox of your phone startles you to cover your face, heaving out an exhausted breath, “Hey, Y/N. Just checking on you in case you wake up and I’m not home,” Vanyas voice speaks, your head raising. “I’m currently at rehearsal, on March 29th, about four in the afternoon. I love you. Call the Academy or the theater if I’m not home,”

“Y/N, it’s Allison. I haven’t heard from you, not sure if you had woken up. But if you have, please call me back. Vanyas went missing. I think she’s with Leonard,”

“Leonard?” You push off the bed, stumbling into the kitchen. You lean against the wall beside the phone, running a hand down your face. Vanyas keys were gone. As was her violin,

“Hey, Y/N?” Diego’s voice comes next, “You remember that apocalypse? Yeah. Vanyas the cause. Get your shit together and meet us at the theater the night of the concert. We need you,”

Your eyes widen, flickering around for your shoes before you grab your keys, moving out the door with a shaky hand on the door, “That’s tonight,”

. . .

“What the hells going on?” Your voice startles four of the Hargreeve siblings to turn around, all watching you rub your patched shoulder,

“Y/N!” Klaus cheers, arms up, “Youre awake!”

“Vanya has powers,” Luther hisses, your eyes flicking to him, “She’s out of control, starting with slicing Allison’s neck,” He jabs a finger to said woman, where you see a patch at her neck,

“Why are we here?” You exhale, Diego stepping up,

“The apocalypse starts today. And you had hell of fucking timing waking up. You’re going to be our distraction,”

“Distraction, how?” You demand, Allison holding up her finger before jotting down words on her notepad,

She’s been scared you wouldn’t wake up. She may calm if she sees you.

“What triggered them?”

“Leonard?” Diego questions, “Yeah. He manipulated her for her powers. Good thing he’s dead now, huh?”

“Leonard’s dead?” You hiss, Luther shaking his head at you,

“We don’t have time. You need to go. Vanya needs to see you,”

You nod, shaking your arms out and wincing at the pull it gave your shoulder, moving forward to the entrance to the audience.

Your footsteps remain slow as you move down the walkway, eyes firm on Vanyas seated figure at the front of the stage. Her eyes remained a bright blue- nearly white, on her paper.

Her eyes flick up at the sight of movement, meeting your own so you stop your footsteps, smiling tearfully at where she sat. Her lips pull into her own smile, pausing slightly,

“There’s no one else in the room but me,”

Her hand is quick to catch up to her song, your feet moving back down the walkway, screeching to another halt when her head snaps to the side, in time for Diego and Luther to rush out onto the stage,

You watch in alarm as she stands up, a wave of blue thrown off her bow so Diego and Luther are knocked off the stage, the audience around you shrieking in fear and running off in large groups,

“Vanya!” You call, over the panicked shouts of the men and women around you, moving up to the stage, “Baby! I’m here!”

Her glowing eyes force themselves to look down at you, waving her bow so the musicians behind her sat back down, her jaw clenching,

“Y/N, get down!” A rough tug on your injured arm causes you to cry out, Vanyas eyes opening to see Diego pull you behind a row of seats, your back falling against his chest with a short gasp, your hand pressing to your shoulder,

“I need to get to her!” You heave, looking across the walkway to Luther and Allison, “She’ll listen to me!”

Allison shakes her head, gesturing to her own arm. “Screw the gunshot wound,” You hiss, Diego’s attempt to catch your arm when you stand up failing, where you stand in the middle of the walkway,

Luther and his siblings are quick to surround you, “Here’s how it goes!” Luther starts, “We go at her from all angles,”

“I call front,” You state, moving around him to jump onto the stage, stopping feet from your wife, “Vanya!” You plea, hand up as she continued to play, her suit now white, “Baby- it’s me! I’m okay!”

Her eyes don’t leave yours as you take another step forward, before she raises her bow, your body quick to drop before the wave of blue could hit you, the four boys behind you lifted into the air, her power quick to suck the life from their bodies,

You look up in a panic, pushing to stand up in a rush, crying out when a gunshot rings through, dropping the four brothers to the ground. Your arms jolt out to catch Vanyas fallen figure, your shoulder screaming in pain as you lower yourself to your knees, Vanyas head rested in your lap,

“Vanya!” You cry, hand running down her hair as your free pressed to her neck, “No! No, baby-,”

Your sob cuts short when feeling her pulse and no blood, looking up at Allison behind you with a false gun in her hand. “You didn’t shoot her,” You choke out, looking back down to the woman in your hands, “Oh, my god,”

You lean down, lips pressing to Vanyas forehead, sniffling as you clutched her hand in yours on her chest, “I’ve got you, sweetheart. You’re okay,”

“We did it,” Luther heaves, Klaus moving to point at the window in the ceiling,

“Then what’s with the giant moon rock flying towards earth?”

You look up, eyes blurred with tears, sniffling as you look back down to your wife, fingers tucking her hair away from her eyes.

“So much for saving the world,” Klaus mumbles, your head leaning against Vanyas as your eyes shut, hiccuping.

“This doesn’t have to be the end,” Five rushes, moving next to you and Allison knelt by you, “I have a way out of here. I just need you to trust me,”

“Five,” You call, now looking at him, “I trust you,”

You feel your body lift off the stage, Vanyas body leaving your arms so you flailed in mid air, yelping when you are dropped onto the concrete just seconds later

Dallas, Texas, 1963

“Shit,” You whisper, looking up at where the blue vortex vanished, “Shit. Shit! Vanya!”

“Miss?” You look over, to a blonde woman standing with her son, panic on her face, “I have a woman saying her names Vanya. Might she be who you’re looking for?”

“Oh my gosh,” You mutter, nodding as you push off the floor and follow her to her car, where you see two bystanders helping Vanya off the floor, “Hey! Vanya, are you okay?”

“I think so,” She murmurs, taking your arms as she stands, her eyes flicking to your patched chest, “What happened to you?”

“You don’t remember?” You whisper, brows furrowed, your hand sliding to her cheek. You turn to face the woman from before, “Ma’am, do you have somewhere we can go? She needs to be checked up on,”

“Did I cause it?” The woman, Sissy, panics, moving up to you, “I didn’t see her, I swear,”

“It’s okay,” You breathe, and look back to Vanya, your eyes teary, “You’re okay,”

She nods, warily, letting Sissy move you to her car.

. . .

“I’m sorry, I still don’t understand,” Vanya exhales, leaning forward on the couch you both sat on in Sissy’s house, “We’re married?”

“Yes,” You nod, licking your lips in fear, “Is that okay? We- we don’t have to,” You pull your hand from where you reached for her own, Vanya shaking her head as she takes your hand, tightly,

“No- I mean- yes, it’s okay,” She smiles, your own lips pulling upwards, tiredly. You lean forward, allowing your forehead to knock hers.

“You two look like you’ve had a long day,” Sissy speaks up, handing you a cup of (favorite/warm/drink), “I only have one guest bedroom,”

“I can take the couch,” You heave, reassuringly, Vanyas brows pinching as she tugs at your hand,

“We can share, Y/N,”

“You barely remember me,” You murmur, clenching your jaw and laughing, tearily, “Why would you want to sleep with a woman who you don’t know?”

“I may not know you but I trust you,” Vanya states, raising your hand and hers to show the rings you had, “You say we’re married. I will keep trying to regain my memories as long as I can to remember our wedding day,”

Your eyes flick up to hers, smiling, weakly, with a nod, sniffling as tears began to refill your eyes. Your hand raises to wipes your cheek, Vanyas smile dropping in worry as her hand touches your jaw, directing your attention to her, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” You whisper, shaking your head, “It’s just been a very long day,”

You suck in a deep breath and sniff, looking up at Sissy who smiled, sympathetically, “Do you kind if I borrow your shower? And maybe some help rewrapping this?” You lift your bandaged shoulder, Vanyas hand falling from your face to her lap as Sissy nods, gesturing you to follow her down the hall.

You run a hand through your damp hair, silently shutting the bedroom door behind you,

Your eyes shift to Vanya on the bed, resting in a pair of Sissy’s clothing, same as you, “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” You move to the bed, Vanya looking up at you- finally seeing the exhaustion in your eyes. What had happened to you today?

“Of course,” Your wife murmurs, extending her hand for you to take so you slide underneath the covers,

“I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” You whisper, now on your side to face her, “You don’t even know me,”

“But I feel like I do,” Vanya corrects, watching as the tear in your eye slipped from the corner and down your nose, “I’m trying to understand, but I can’t do that without you,”

Your lips purse to stop the sob in your throat, hand raising to cover your pinched eyes. “Hey,” Vanya panics, shaking her head as she slides her hand to the back of your head, guiding you to rest against her chest, “No no, please don’t cry. I’m sorry,”

You let your arm slide to her backside, tightly, hiccuping against the skin of her collarbone, “No, I’m sorry. I’m so emotional and tired, and I want things to go back to normal,”

“I know,” Vanya brushes her lips against your hair, her free hand dragging her nails soothingly across your upper back, “We don’t have to talk about it anymore. What do you want me to do?”

A pause, “Just hold me,” You whisper, leaning your head back to look at her, “Please,”

Vanya nods, quickly, her eyes flicking to your lips before she looks back up to your eyes, your body pushing forward to force your lips against hers.

Vanya exhales sharply against your mouth, her fingers tightening in your hair as you peck her lips, once, twice, barely pulling away so you still felt her breath on your skin,

“I love you, Vanya. I wish I could’ve helped you,”

Vanyas brows pinch, wanting to question what you had meant, but she only finds herself pulling you back in, allowing her lips to recollide with your own, slow against the darkness of the bedroom.

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH52

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

-----

Chapter 52: Purgatory Reunion (IV)

[Player Qi Leren has arrived in Purgatory and started the task: Sacrifice of the Devil King]

[Task background: Three years ago, the Devil of Slaughter provoked the Devil of Power, and was suppressed by the Devil of Power and the Devil of Fraud in Purgatory’s lake of fire. However, he did not die nor give up, but silently waited for an opportunity. Three years later, the seal was accidentally loosened, and the Devil of Slaughter’s consciousness broke free from the seal and began to look for a way to resurrect...]

[Task requirements: Destroy the Devil of Slaughter and gain one third of the authority of the Devil of Destruction.]

[Data synchronization countdown, ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, synchronization completed.]

　　&&&

"Oh? So, this martial law is the order of the Devil of Power herself?" a person in leather boots whispered in a sexy, soft voice. If they didn't pay attention, the voice would be covered by the wind passing through the underground passage.

But who dared to not listen carefully? The lower demon secretly glanced at the succubus, facing his smiling yet cold eyes. He looked at him as if he was a maggot crawling on the ground, which scared him, and said in a trembling voice: "I don't know... I just heard..."

"Heard?" The succubus repeated the word, his tone full of deep dissatisfaction.

"No no no, sir, the rumors are likely to be true! There was an abnormality in Purgatory’s lake of fire before, that is, the lake of fire that suppressed the Devil of Slaughter... I think that there may be a problem with the seal on the Devil of Slaughter! That’s it!" the lower demon quickly explained, fearing that the succubus would kill him in annoyance.

"Hehe." The succubus chuckled inexplicably and stopped.

Ahead was a huge underground space, which was too high for the top of the cave to be seen. The fluorescent plants and fluorescent moths covered this pure darkness from their perches on the rock walls, which made it seem as though the cave walls of this bottomless underground nest were dotted with starry light.

They were standing in an underground valley at this time, opposite to another underground valley, and between the two cliffs was a moat-like abyss, with churning red magma flowing under their feet, like a rushing river rushing toward the deeper lake of fire.

"Sir, do you want to pass? The patrol is very strict on the other side, I'm afraid that if you’re found..." The lower demon carefully raised his head and observed the succubus.

The mysterious succubus was studying a crystal in his hand, and the lower demon recognized that it was a life crystal. The original clear crystal has overflowed with black smoke, and there were fine cracks on the crystal’s surface.

It seemed that the owner of this crystal was in a bad situation, no wonder he was in such a hurry…

However, whose life crystal was this? What did it have to do with this succubus?

The succubus was aware of the other’s snooping gaze, and tilted his head to glance at the lower demon behind him. The ruby-like eyes flowed with the innate charm of succubuses, but they were as cold as ice: "Is there a more hidden path?"

The lower demon did not dare to look at him again. He bowed his head to suppress his rapid heartbeat, but he still saw the succubus’ long legs that were wrapped in leather pants so tight he may as well have been naked. After mentally rehearsing ten times, he said cautiously: "There is indeed one."

Magma ran rapidly through the canyon, and the succubus’ smile as he stood on the cliff deepened, murmuring in a dreamy way: "That's great."

It seemed that he had saved his small life, and the lower demon breathed a sigh of relief. Since he had been caught by this mysterious succubus an hour ago and forced him to "sell" a slew of intelligence, he was always in awe. As a well-known information broker near Purgatory, he was cautious in his daily life, rarely came forward himself, and lived a very low profile. So when he woke up this time and found a succubus sitting on the bay window opposite the bed, smiling as he twirled a dagger in his hand, he was really scared.

Comfortable days had passed for so long that he’d almost forgotten the terror of being on the edge of life and death.

Now, he coaxed the shadowy boss in a desperation to keep him pleased, and helped him hurry to the lake of fire. Anyway, he wasn’t curious... Well, there was still a little curiosity. Who was this succubus working for? What was his purpose for coming to Purgatory at this delicate moment? He definitely wasn’t with the Devil of Power or the Devil of Fraud, otherwise he wouldn’t need to be so careful.

Was he an old follower of the Devil of Slaughter? Or..... was he simply a follower of the fallen Lord of Destruction...

The lower demon did not dare to think about it any more. He lost 10% of his caution. He took the succubus around the patrol line, crossed the magma river in the underground valley, and finally came to the strictest area.

"This is it. Go from here and pass through the warning zone to reach the lake of fire. However, the area around the lake of fire has been completely blocked. I heard that a large-scale conflict broke out last night. Right now, entrance and exit from the lake has been barred. I can only take you this far. Next..." The lower demon rubbed his hands and smiled in a professional manner, fearing that the succubus would turn on him at any moment.

The succubus stood outside the warning zone, and the channels extended in all directions in front of him seemed like an ant's nest. He was afraid that the demons patrolling in the cave would cause a chain reaction.

Qi Leren sighed in his heart. He’d never thought that he would encounter so many difficulties after entering the Underground Ant City.

If it wasn't for the fact that the Court had given him a lot of resources and help, even if he spent ten days or half a month alone, he couldn't so much as touch the right way, let alone find the den of an underground information broker, and even coax and scare him into leading the way.

But even under such efficiency, there was not much time left for him.

There was only less than an hour's journey left to reach the lake, but this journey required vigilance. Qi Leren, who hadn't slept a wink for more than a day, had passed the point of exhaustion, but now was both energetic and filled with anxiety.

He was too afraid that it was too late.

"The conflict last night, tell me in detail," the succubus said lightly.

"This... is suspected to be caused by the old Devil of Destruction’s people. Specifically... I didn't go to work because I was with you so early this morning. The detailed information can be presented to you immediately when I go back and sort it out!"

The succubus hissed, and his red eyes showed deep contempt and murderous intent: "Do you still need to tidy up?"

"No no no no, I mean... I only have hearsay, I haven't tried to verify it, I'm afraid it’s not reliable."

"Let's hear it."

"Okay, sir. About a month ago, the lake of fire began to behave strangely, and died down after an underground volcanic eruption, but two days ago, several big demons from the underworld appeared near Purgatory. All of them were the old staff of the Lord of Destruction, and they seemed to explore something near the lake of fire. Since the fall of the Destroyer, they seldom come out, and this time they suspiciously appeared together. That is, in these two days, a low-level demon disappeared and was killed near the lake of fire. This kind of thing is very common, and we did not pay attention until last night..."

The lower devil's face showed a complex expression of fear and reverence. He lowered his voice and excitedly told the secret: "Last night, someone saw the body of a high-level demon in the canyon downstream of the lake of fire, soaked in lava, and flowing down along the magma... There were as many ants, which were crushed by the dark pressure. Then the whole of Purgatory went under martial law, and the lake of fire area became particularly strict. If you try to enter carelessly, you’ll be killed!"

"Who did it?" asked the succubus.

"We don't know that, but there is a clue. Last night, a demon heard a dragon roaring near the lake of fire. At that time, the whole canyon around the lake of fire was shaking, like an earthquake. The stones collapsed and fell everywhere. He ran quickly but saw nothing else."

"A dragon roaring..." the succubus whispered thoughtfully.

Getting the map of this area, he let the hapless demon information broker go. Qi Leren took off the "costume" he had used while undercover with the Slaughter Secret Society, changed into clothes more convenient for movement, and threw the fancy leather boots covered with sequins and silver chains on his feet back into the item bar, then hurriedly walked into the cave.

The dragon roaring last night was probably Ning Zhou awakening to the power of Destruction and transforming into a magic dragon. Was the big fight last night related to Ning Zhou's final death? Qi Leren couldn't be sure. Right now, he couldn't wait to fly to him when he thought of how close Ning Zhou was.

He had to catch up, and he would catch up. Qi Leren shook his fist, equipped the necessary skill cards, and touched the Prophet's Heart item hanging on his chest. He wanted to pass this area of the martial law’s warning zone. In addition to relying on maps and hidden technology, he had to rely on Secretly Observing. If it was really impossible...

Even with the Prophet’s Heart, he would have to forcibly cross the warning zone into the lake of fire.

He couldn't wait any longer.

Prepared psychologically, Qi Leren took a deep breath and strode forward.

……

……

……

The last guard post was already ahead, and [Secretly Observing] has also entered cooldown. Qi Leren’s body was tightly pressed to the rock wall, listening to the footsteps getting closer and closer. The patrolling demons held torches, which lit up the dark environment.

It seemed to be just a few ordinary demons, otherwise they wouldn't need torches to see.

Below this cliff was a huge "lake", with smoke rising above the brightly burning lava, making this cold underground like a burning hell. This was the lake of fire. Ning Zhou was here.

Qi Leren closed his eyes and calculated the most likely way to break through.

The patrolling demons were in groups of two. It would be very difficult for him to kill two demons silently at the same time. Once he failed, the demons on the guard post nearby would set off a chain reaction... If there’s a storm ahead, take a detour...

There was a loud bang, and the demons on patrol stopped and whispered, "What happened? Is it going crazy again? "

"Who knows. Be careful, don't be too lazy. Many people died yesterday."

The ground suddenly shook, as if an earthquake had broken out!

Loose rocks on the rock wall fell down in pieces, causing a lot of turmoil. Qi Leren, who was waiting for an opportunity, took this opportunity to rush out. When the two patrolling demons panicked, he took care of them sharply and neatly. Rather than dealing with the bodies, he went through the last sentry post as the rocks continued falling and rushed to the cliff ahead without looking back.

It was as if a window had been opened in the huge rock wall. Qi Leren stood at this window and looked down.

As far as he could see, the world was a vast red, bigger and more cruel than the scene in his dream. The air was so hot that he couldn't breathe, his mouth only seeming to suck the hot flames into his lungs and ignite his body.

The terrible height and heat made Qi Leren dizzy. It was difficult to imagine a glacier here, because the glacier would quickly melt in his mind.

This hot land made up of hot magma was like being placed in a high-pressure boiler, extremely hot. Even if there was a distance of more than 100 meters from the magma beneath his feet, the heat was like a red soldering iron pressed against his skin.

It wasn’t just hot, it was a painful torment. Just standing here was like a desperate slug on an asphalt road, dried by the hot August sun.

Qi Leren gawked at the sight beneath his feet. This scarlet lake of fire was burning, and a few black rocky islands were baked in it... No, it wasn't all rocks.

One of the black, half-submerged shadows in lava was...

This scene overlapped with his dying dream—the black dragon slowly sank into the lake of fire, never to exist again.

Was it too late? Was he already too late?

Qi Leren's legs went soft and he knelt on the ground, his mind going blank.

There was another loud noise, and the magma spewing out of the lake set off a surging wave in the lake of fire, lapping against the black dragon's body. The dragon that had been lying quietly in the lake of fire moved, and Qi Leren also moved at the sight of it.

The black dragon raised its head and looked at the thick domed ceiling. Its claws extended from under the lave, slapped hard on the lake of fire’s surface, and then roared. In a flash, the whole underground lake shook crazily, and the whole world seemed to be turned upside down. The magma gathered into a tsunami and washed in all directions. The surrounding rock walls dropped stones that crashed into the lava, and the rock wall above them...

The dome of the underground cave, the top of which couldn’t be seen, seemed to be torn apart by the terrible power. Suddenly huge stones were falling, pouring down in a heavy rain that made the surface of this flaming lake more and more turbulent. It turned into a horrible hell where fire fell like rain!

The black dragon stood in the lake of fire, and the overwhelming burning stones lit up the dark underground world. It was angry, sad, and desperate, and countless negative emotions gathered in it, making it roar at the invisible sky—

The dome cracked, and the top of the underground cave was torn open by the violent force, so that a beam of light pierced the earth and fell into Purgatory.

It was light, not the burning flames of sulfur and magma.

Just after the light fell, a familiar call crossed the distance between life and death and came to its ears:

"Ning Zhou—!!!”

Maybe it was because of the light, or maybe it was because of this voice, but the furious black dragon suddenly quieted down. It stood quietly in the lake of fire, looking at the distant hole in the rock wall, which was brighter than the sun.

Amidst the bright holy light, a silvery white light like fine gauze slowly stretched out, just like a huge lotus flower in full bloom. In that light, there is a mirage of paradise at dusk, and countless hymns were played there, washing away one’s inner pain.

In this light, a holy angel with white wings fell from the cliff and fell from Heaven toward Purgatory’s lake of fire without hesitation.

The holy and elegant white wings fluttered gently. The warm and quiet power extinguished the raging flames burning on the lake of fire along the way, and the terrible suffocating heat dissipated with them, turning into a paradise in the light. The reflection of Heaven appeared on the lake of fire wherever he passed.

The holy angel landed on a black rock in the lake of fire, just in front of the dragon.

And the light falling from the broken dome just happened to fall on him.

The earth shaking world had subsided, the downpour of fiery rain had subsided, and the scarred black dragon had also subsided.

They stared at each other as if they were staring at their own souls. One was full of cracks that were on the verge of breaking, and the other was about to be pulled by despair into the abyss of Destruction.

It was at this moment that they were all redeemed by gentleness.

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The author has something to say:

PS: They finally meet again! This scene is ranked as the no.2 scene that I wanted to write in the second part. It should be more beautiful in my brain... I accidentally burst the word count OTZ, First explain the cause and effect clearly, and then start a sweet love ^_^

By the way, everyone should have guessed how Ning Zhou died before, right?

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Editor’s Notes: Double update today because I think this and the next chapter are best read side by side. Please continue on~

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[opinions-of-loki]

Loki - Episode One, Summary bullet points in form of an unnecessarily detailed opinion

- What I found sort of funny was Loki, who immediately hit the dessert and immediately hurried to the next higher stone, as if this were the pedestal that was his equal, only to be able to explain / present himself to the Mongolian inhabitants, only that they did not understand him and asked again who he is. It kinda gave me Hela vibes. Black haired Odin children have a tough time getting heard.

ALSO! THE SASS! Yet staying polite despite him being confused of what is going to happen to him - Trying to be all intimidating, but nobody takes him serious, as always! You can’t scare the time space cops my boy :/ Finding out how the company works and being all confused was honestly a very sweet and funny moment

- What’s up with the soundtracks??? Someone give this dude a raise who composed these Blade Runner-que music for the TVA followed with those cool bagpipes traditionally used for Scandinavian folk music? FUCK YES! Also the end credits music, it’s just excellent!

- Loki questioning if he’s a robot or not! I mean, he was told to believe he was an Aesir but in the end wasn’t. So who knew if Odin adopted a robot son? Better check on this one - I kinda got cute vibes from Mobius and Renslayer, they seem to perhaps have a closer connection towards another, especially after he greeted her with a formal Hi and talking to her on a somehow personal level - Mobius at first seemed like a very kind man and being patient with Loki, even supportive, but he is an experienced cop and knows how to handle complicated people, especially Loki variants. Mobius gives off a vibe of an older Blade Runner who takes his job very serious. But in the middle I kind of started to hate him a little

- The story of why Loki is an American crime legend D.B. Cooper just because he lost a bet to Thor when they were younger! Hilarious! Most of the most legendary pranks ever! I would have been more happy about the details of why Thor demanded this, or if it went like ” Loki! Cause some chaos on Midgard. Humans are easy to impress.” ” Say no more, Brother!” - Though Mobius seemed like the only person ever who had the ability to call out Loki to his actions: That he isn’t a God of mischief, because he confronted Loki about if killing innocent people is part of his fun, if it brings enjoyment to him to torture people who had nothing to do about Loki’s past. Loki denying that it’s not true, Mobius harshly confronts him about his earlier maniac like expression when removing someone’s eyeballs, if this is still harmless mischief-making. - BUT! Where is it mentioned he was controlled by the mind stone and the thriving fear of Thanos to get killed??? Loki was under pressure, to get killed by the Mad Titan, and he wasn’t thinking rationally when he invaded New York? For someone who studied Loki’s life so well, Mobius sucks to get a point to this one, or it will be mentioned in the future, I better hope so - Loki doesn’t trust easily, because “Trust is for children and dogs.” Gave me Natasha vibes. Because she and him were sharing a quite similar conversation a few hours earlier.

- SEEING FRIGGA’S DEATH! Loki giving great speeches about wanting to free everyone, being a ruler of the Nine Realms to hide away what he truly desired and that nobody would understand his thoughts and emotions, but seeing 2012 Loki seeing that HE gave the coordinates to the Dark Elves, unknowing Frigga would be on this very wing, you can see how hurt he was and panicked! He completely lost all trails of thoughts, asking where she is, if the TVA also kept her, if she is okay! He wanted to save her so badly, he doesn’t want to become the version who will kill her once again. - Mobius saying that there is nothing he can change and that Frigga HAS to die to get back in the flow of time, OUCH! - I get more TTDW vibes when everything that has been explained to Loki, that he will only bring death and chaos no matter what he does, that not only Frigga is destined to die, but Loki is about to die at some point, it made me think of Odin’s words:

Mobius said the same things, Loki’s destiny is to bring death or to ultimately die himself, no matter if he goes the bad or good path. It left me with weird vibes about Mobius being like Odin, just less of an abusive father mentor thing. He was made to cause pain, death and suffering. It hurt. Knowing those weren’t Loki’s goals, he came to the realization that Mobius is right, but doesn’t want to admit it, or at least denies it, but agreed in the end in a very subtle way - MOBIUS AND LOKI FIGHTING!! ” Do you enjoy killing?” “I will kill you!” “Like you did to your mother?” MOBIUS! FUCK YOU! At this point, he lost any sympathy from me towards him. He was guilt-tripping Loki, perhaps even gaslighting him. But this is also part of his job. He isn’t supposed to be Loki’s friend, he is a cop after all. Loki is an emotional and vulnerable being, so hitting him at the worst spot to get out more of him probably wasn’t the kindest thing to do, but probably the most effective for Mobius. Loki likes to pressure other people, but doesn’t like to be the pressured one. - Loki’s purpose is to bring those together he ultimately tried to remove according to Mobius, Loki brought together a team of legendary superheroes together that barely knew each other, and they grew strong together thanks to Loki’s wrongdoings. It somehow hurt a lot, but in the end, Mobius was speaking the harsh truth -  "I will gut you out like a fish!” “What's a fish?!” BLESS CASEY!

- Endless Infinity Stones! I am in love with this idea! I don’t know why I saw people getting confused by it because even though the Stones are what hold the universe together, the TVA doesn’t live in that very universe, they are beyond that very space and time we don’t know and can’t grasp, they visit timelines after timelines, so of course it happens they find stones and keep them, either knowing or not knowing what they are, or they simply don’t care, because they have no purpose in the TVA. Perhaps these stones are variants too and don’t belong to a certain timeline and needed to be removed, such as Loki’s Tesseract

- What got me the most, and we all know what I mean, Loki crying privately when he once again viewed the life of his alternative self, viewing the loss of his family, the loss of his own life. I don’t really know if he mourned over Odin too, but in this series, Odin never threatened to kill or imprison Loki which perhaps didn’t cause any damage towards his anger. Though he was aware that Odin took the other Loki in a cell, but it was a destiny he could avoid now that he knew how things will turn out when he returns to Asgard. He will never get arrested, Frigga probably wouldn’t die because of him, though I get a feeling the Dark Elves will come nevertheless, but this time, it shall be Thor’s problem not to screw it up. Though it was a relief to see him smile soon after when he realized Thor was the only one believing in him, even though their relationships always has been kinda weird, as Loki always was jealous of him being everyone’s first choice, but in the end, Thor was alive, everything that was left, and Thor didn’t hate him - End of File - I don’t know why, but reading this, Loki himself reading this, the very end of his life, it made me shiver. He saw his memories of what could be, what MUST happen to him, and that there are more happy memories. But in the end, there are no memories anymore - end of file. That’s it. That was his life. - I can’t imagine how many thoughts must have been go through his head to see Thanos again, Loki’s try to kill him, just to see his neck and wind pipe getting cracked. He currently recovers from the effects of a full year of torture, both mentally and physically, just the same he would treat his ‘Children’. I can imagine Thanos promised him the world, something small to rule over to expand over more realms. Thanos triggered Loki’s fear and anger, who had to deal with the information he never belonged to Asgard in the first place. Whenever Loki would try to flee or play games with Thanos, I can imagine Loki got punished for it, he never even spoke sassy with Thanos during Infinity War.  Loki is terrified of him for good reasons. I imagine this young man, feared, terrified, trapped on a rock with daily mental manipulation and pain. Loki became obedient and would have done anything for Thanos, whatever he ordered, including an exchange of power. Even if Thanos never fully was on his side and used Loki as a puppet with power and sorcery, being useful, I get a feeling Loki clung to his words and promises to rule over Earth as a savior and liberator, which completely went wrong - His laughter following after could have many reasons, relief, stress or disbelief. He was still crying between those laughs, which could be taken as desperation about no matter what he does, his actions will lead to harsh consequences. Disbelief of what he just saw, as if it felt so unreal to even believe what he had just witnessed, that it was all real, a destiny that was meant to him. But what else did Loki do during serious situations? He avoids them, he doesn’t want to acknowledge problems and shoving them away with a sassy comment or a smile to cope with it - which could mean this laughter could be part of his coping mechanism

- Him opening up, addressing why Loki hurts people, was honestly the best scene to me. He spoke about his inferior complex, his fear of not being strong enough to survive, building up a facade, a fake personality to survive also with the help of his magic. He thought he can be superior to anyone if he could scare everyone, gaining respect and love in form of war and destruction, as he perhaps thought of Odin being a former warlord, he would prefer a son who is able to conquer, being merciless. He doesn’t want to get hurt, he doesn’t trust anyone easily, that’s why he has to hurt people, to avoid of getting hurt or betrayed in the end. He became a double-edged sword I’m open for opinions and private chatting if you guys want to add something ! :DD